


With Stars in Your Eyes, Heart on Your Sleeve

by sapphirebluerubyredroses



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, lots of angst but also laughs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2018-10-04 05:06:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 39,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10268927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphirebluerubyredroses/pseuds/sapphirebluerubyredroses
Summary: Her eyes wide with drink, she slapped both of her hands on either side of his face, squeezing his cheeks until his lips puckered. "Listen to me. Don't baby him, just help him. Also, he'll probably accept your help more than you think. Also, give him this." She shoved a thin cylinder into his chest, waiting until he fumbled his fingers around it to turn back to her laptop."What is it?""Tell him he can be Daredevil now."





	1. Chapter 1

"Lance!" Allura's scream had Keith spinning around just in time to see Lance get doused in what looked like acid, green and slick and steaming. Somewhere during the fight, his helmet had been torn off, leaving his face vulnerable as the liquid coated his skin. "Lance!" she shouted again, slashing through the Galra in front of her and flinging herself towards him. Keith was on her heels, slashing through the legs of anything that came towards them. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine!" Lance grunted, kicking at an attacker with all the force his could muster. He blinked rapidly, eyes narrowing and squinting. "We need to get out of here!" He slammed his back against Keith's, rifle held at eye level.

"Lance, are you alright?" Keith shouted over the mayhem as Allura shouted to Coran in Altean. His heart pounded a tattoo against his breastbone, blood roaring through his ears.

Lance glanced over his shoulder, his eyes a little hazy, his gaze a little unfocused. "I'm fine, mullet!" He spun, taking several shots that just barely missed Keith's shoulder. "See, fine." He wobbled, stumbling into Keith. "Or I was fine. God, my head is killing me."

"Allura!" Keith shouted over his shoulder, his arms securely fastened around Lance, supporting his body weight, "We have to go now!"

She nodded, taking one of Lance's arms as they ran towards the Red and Blue lions. "We got what we needed. Pidge and Hunk are returning to the ship as we speak. Lance, can you pilot Blue back?"

Lance nodded weakly. "Just get me into Blue. I'll be fine." Keith broke of from him and Allura at Blue's mouth, disappearing into Red. Only when they had cleared the danger area did Lance feel himself start to slip. "Keith," he called into the comms weakly, "I'm going to need more help than I thought."

.....

' _Lance!_ '

Lance woke with a jolt to darkness and the echo of Keith's voice in his ears. Groaning, he reached out both hands, slapping around for a light. His hand landed on something hard and solid, the scratch of fabric rasping against his skin. Rolling his eyes, his shook their shoulder. "Hey, hey, can you turn on a light or something?" The person beneath his hand groaned, sitting up and away from him so his hand slid off. "Morning, sunshine, can you turn on the lights?"

"Lance?" It was Keith's voice laced heavily with confusion and concern, scratchy and thick. A hand, warm and thin, gripped his shoulder. "We've been really worried about you, Lance, so you can stop screwing around."

Lance scowled, shrugging out from beneath his touch even as heat rose along his neck. "I'm not," he spat, sliding his legs off the side of the bed or cot or whatever he was lying in, "It's pitch black in here, and I wasn't ready to hip check every goddamn thing in this room looking for the lights, but if I have to then I will." As soon as he put weight on his feet though, he dropped, Keith's arms catching him around the waist. "Thanks, but let go of me. I'm fine."

"You shouldn't be moving around until Coran and Allura have a look at you," Keith told him sternly, lifting him back onto the bed with a quiet grunt, "And you can really stop screwing around. We haven't turned the lights off since we brought you in here. When are the lights ever really off in the castle?"

Lance stilled, staring in the direction that he could feel Keith's breath from. It fanned warmly across his face. "Dude... you can... you're the one screwing around. It's so dark I can't even see my hand."

"Lance," Keith muttered, and he could hear the mounting horror in the way he said his name, feel it in the constriction of his hands on him. "Just... just stay here for a minute. I'm going to go get Allura. Just don't move, alright?" His hands clutched at him for a moment longer before disappearing with the quick slap of his running footsteps.

"Yeah, right, like I'm actually going to do that." Sliding from the bed again, Lance gingerly put weight onto his feet. His knees wobbled beneath him, but after a moment, solidified into semi-solid gelatin. "Okay, one step at a time. Let's... let's find the lights. Yeah, let's find the lights." The first few steps away from the bed went well, wobbly and unsteady, but well. The next few did not go as well. When he landed on the floor, his knees cracking loudly as they struck the stone, he bitterly remembered the foals he had helped learn to walk when they were first born. "Quiznak! Fuck!" he growled, breathing harshly as he glared blindly at the floor, but the curses made him feel no better, "Mierda! Hijo de puta!"

He could hear several sets of footsteps running towards him, too close for him to move and preserve some of his lost dignity.

"Lance, I told you not to move!" Keith shouted as they burst into the room, warm hands grabbing his wrist and waist to pull him to his feet again, "Did you hurt yourself?"

"Only my dignity," Lance quipped back sharply, glaring at the far wall.

Keith steered him back to the bed. "What were you even trying to do?"

"Well, since you couldn't take the time to turn the lights on as you left, I was going to do it myself. Speaking of which, why are we all still standing in the dark? I thought at least one of you would have by now."

"Oh," Allura squeaked, a little horrified as her light footsteps moved further into the room. "Keith, yes, put him there. Coran, can you- Oh, thank you. Lance, hold still. I'm going to do a scan of your vitals and other essentials."

Lance frowned, recoiling his hand when he realized it was still wrapped securely around Keith's waist. "Is anyone going to explain to me what's going on here? Especially why everyone has apparently decided to sit in the dark for the rest of our lives? That goo that I got soaked in didn't leave my handsome features irreversibly ugly, did it?" He was only half joking, patting at his face experimentally.

"No, there was no lasting damage to your face," Allura assured him, her voice echoing to him from the other side of the room. “When we returned to the castle, you passed out in the Blue Lion. We got you clean and put you in a healing pod because there was some damage to your eyes from the acid. When you came out, still unconscious, but with your eyes healed, we assumed there would be nothing wrong. But..." She trailed off, her fingers tapping away feverishly at a screen.

"'But' is never a good way to start a sentence or end one, Princess. What's going on? Why is it pitch black in here? **What's going on**?"

"Let her work," Keith murmured quietly, squeezing his shoulder gently.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Lance leaned into the touch. "When did you take over the roll as 'space dad'? It's not a good look for you."

"Someone has to."

"Coran, can you... can you do a quick eye exam on him, please?" Allura asked, her voice stiff in her attempt to hide her worry, but Lance could hear it all the same.

Lance jerked, slipping from the edge of the bed to start towards Allura's voice, but he crumpled, Keith's arms catching him **again**. How many times was he going to catch him before he gave up and let him drop? "Allura, what's going on? What's wrong with my eyes? Allura? Allura! Tell me what's wrong!" his words stuttered out, tears choking him, but refusing to fall.

"Lance," she said softly, her tone soothing.

"No! Don't 'Lance' me! What's going on? Keith, what's on the screen? What is she not telling me?" he demanded, gripping onto Keith so harshly he was worried he would leave bruises behind.

Keith's tone nearly mimicked Allura's, but he hid his panic and concern much worse than the Princess, and Lance's heart dropped out from beneath him. "Lance, there's... there's something wrong with your eyes. There's... there's something disconnected on the screen. I don't... I don't know what it is, but..." He trailed off, the hand around his waist squeezing tightly, nearly to bruising.

When Lance's knees failed this time, Keith held him tight against him, holding all of his weight. "What... what do you mean? There's something... I'm broken?"

Quick footsteps approached him, warm hands enveloping his face. "No, Lance, no, you're not broken. There's just... your optical nerve looks like it's detached. It's why your eyes healed, but you still can't see. Your not broken. You've never been broken. I'll make this right, okay? You'll be able to see again in no time."

Using Keith's arms to pull himself back to his feet, wrapping his arm around his shoulders, he muttered, "Why don't I believe you?"

"Lance-"

"No, Allura! If I can't see, then I'm useless to this team! That's two paladins down! What are you going to do is Haggar attacks again, because she will, it's only a matter of time? Who's going to pilot Blue with my eyes jacked up? Who's going to pilot Black with Shiro gone? We've already lost, Allura. I'm useless, Shiro's gone, and now, now the team's broken because I couldn't manage to protect myself. We might as well just... Just..." His chin trembled, his neck and ears burning. With his pride already screaming on the floor, he swallowed thickly. "Keith, can you... can you help me back to my room?"

"Lance, I... yeah. Yeah, I can do that." There was a moment of silence, a moment of stillness, before Keith hitched Lance higher against him, slowly walking so Lance could keep up.

As they pushed into the hallway and the door slid closed behind them, Lance's tears came silently and unbidden, slipping down his cheeks to patter against the stone. "I'm sorry," he whispered, leaning heavily on Keith, "I'm sorry."

.....

"Okay, we're here. Are you going to be alright on your own for a bit? I need to go talk to the others," Keith asked, helping Lance settle into the edge of his bed. He stood there awkwardly for a long moment, watching the tears still streaming down Lance's face and the defeated slump of his shoulders.

"Yeah," he mumbled, voice a dull monotone, "Can you just... I don't remember where I put my pajamas. Can you put them on the bathroom sink please?"

Keith nodded before flinching, remembering that Lance can't see him anymore. "Yeah, I can do that," he forced out, finding the clothes easily piled at the end of his bed. "Do you want clean ones or are these good?"

"Those are fine. Can you get my jacket from..." His sightless eyes glance around. "I don't know where it is. If you see it can you put it on my pillow?"

Keith followed his requests, putting the pajamas on the bathroom sink along with the headphones and phone he found on a chair. He found the jacket hung neatly in the closet, setting it on his bed. "Do you need anything else?"

"No, I'll just figure it out if I do... Thanks."

Keith stood in the middle of the room, watching Lance fiddle with the cuff of the suit he'd been wearing while in the healing pod. Stepping forward before he could talk himself out of it, he placed a hand on Lance's shoulder, squeezing tightly. "It's going to be fine, Lance. Allura and Coran and Pidge will figure out a way to get your eyesight back."

Laughing hollowly, Lance glanced up at him, his blue eyes cloudy. "That's comforting seeing as Pidge knows nothing about anatomy or medicine. If she could, she'd probably spend her entire life with computers, never interacting with a living creature."

"You forget that Pidge knows everything," Keith told him jokingly, squeezing his shoulder again before his hand slipped back to his side. "I'll be back after I finish with the others."

Lance's eyes dropped again. "Don't rush on my behalf. It's not like I'm going anywhere."

Keith turned towards the door. Lance stopped him as the door slid open.

"Keith?"

He turned back, watching Lance clench his fits in his lap. "Yeah?"

"Thanks..."

"...anytime."

.....

He stood outside Lance's door, leaning against the wall with his head pressed hard into the metal, his eyes clamped shut against the glaring lights overhead. He could hear Lance fumbling around his rooms, choking out curses every few seconds. When the shower started, he opened his eyes again, staring at the ceiling. It was only when he heard the anguished cry that oscillated wildly between a scream and a sob that he finally pushed off from the wall, marching back towards the infirmary hoping that Allura and Coran were still there.

They weren't, of course. He'd spent too much time lingering outside Lance's room.

He checked the common area next; empty. He found Hunk in the kitchen, staring in determination at an assortment of ingredients on the counter. A hand written recipe was leaned against a water bottle, the writing small and cramped, but clean.

"What are you doing?" Keith asked as he stepped further into a space he rarely found himself.

Hunk glanced up, his eyebrows pulled together, his normally smiling mouth down turned in concentration. His face smoothed over as he looked over Keith. "Oh, hey Keith. I'm trying to figure out what would work best to make Lance's favorite food. He wrote it down when we first started living here. It's some Cuban dish his mom used to make, and I'm trying to figure out what I can use to replicate it."

Keith stares at the recipe, reading through the ingredients quickly. "Um... well, this," he picked up what he assumed equated to a vegetable, "Kind of tasted like that the last time you used it. And this..." He turned to the fridge, pulling it open and rummaging through the contents. He pulled out ingredients that remind him at least a little of other ingredients on the list. "Maybe try these."

Hunk scrutinized what he'd placed on the counter, shifting through them. "Actually, these might work. Thanks, Keith... How... how is he? Allura told us... what happened..." He trailed off, turning his attention quickly to the recipe, the concentration returning to his face.

"He's not good, if I'm being honest," he sighed, scrubbing a hand through his hair and wondering idly when it had gotten so long. Maybe he should cut after all. "He's... he's taking it hard... Have you seen the others?"

"Their on the control deck trying to figure out the best way to help Lance. I don't know if it's going well because Coran has come down here three times to get into the stash of liquor he has and Pidge has come down ten times to get cookies and spike her tea."

"Great. I'm going up there. I'll see you later."

Clapping Keith on the back, Hunk grinned, though it was strained. "Go figure this out. And keep an eye on Lance. He doesn't do well with thinking he's a burden, and I know that's exactly what he's thinking right now."

Keith blinked at him for a long moment, the word 'burden' echoing through his head like a shout into a canyon. "Alright, I will. Do you want me to tell him about this?"

"No. I want it to be a surprise."

"Sure." Slipping from the kitchen, Keith nearly sprinted towards the command deck, his head hammering in his chest. Every beat brought that word back to the forefront of his mind. 'Burden'. 'Burden'. 'Burden'. Like some sickening mantra tattooing the word into the inside of his skull.

Bursting into the room, his breathing rough, he called, "Have you guys figured anything out?"

The trio turned to him in unison. Pidge and Coran had glossy eyes, their hands wrapped firmly around their respective cups. Allura chewed obsessively at the edge of a cookie that had been nibbled down to the size of a dollar coin. "Nothing conclusive," she muttered around the edge, turning her eyes back to the screens spread out in front of her, "But we're thinking maybe we can develop a serum that will allow Lance's body to regenerate his optical nerve. I was wrong earlier. It's not detached, but there is a significant amount of scar tissue around the ends and... something else blocking the pathways between his brains and the nerve. We're not sure what it is yet."

Pushing her glasses further up onto her nose and hiccuping, Pidge started in, her words stumbling together, not a complete slur, but close enough. "We're going to have to take samples of the fluid in his eyes eventually. I think maybe we can manufacture something that way. And blood samples probably. It's going to be annoying. He's a baby when it comes to needles, but maybe..." She trailed off into mutters, her fingers flying across the keyboard of her laptop, Coran leaning over her shoulder to watch what she was doing.

Allura turned back to Keith, her eyes soft and worried. "How is he doing?"

Frowning, Keith shook his head, that word still reverberating through his skull. 'Burden'. 'Burden'. 'Burden'. He gritted his teeth. "It's going to take a while. I don't know if he's going to accept our help for very long."

Her head snapping up, Pidge spun around to face him. "Keith, come here."

The frown still firmly in place, but turning perplexed instead of concerned, he crouched in front of her. "What is it?"

Her eyes wide with drink, she slapped both of her hands on either side of his face, squeezing his cheeks until his lips puckered. "Listen to me. Don't baby him, just help him. Also, he'll probably accept **your** help more than you think. Also, give him this." She shoved a thin cylinder into his chest, waiting until he fumbled his fingers around it to turn back to her laptop.

"What is it?"

"Tell him he can be Daredevil now, and not to start beating the shit out of people -i.e. you- with it. He'll get the reference. He'll also get his blind ass shoved out an airlock if he starts beating people up with it. And remind him that I know the difference between an accident, and something made to look like an accident. Remind him I can make anything look like an accident." Her voice dropped to something vaguely threatening, and Keith stood quickly out of her reach, his cheeks stinging with the reminder of her hands.

"Am I supposed to get the reference?"

"No, because you didn't. Now leave. We've got a lot of work to do, and you hovering over our shoulders like a concerned mother duck is not going to make it any easier or go any faster."

Keith spluttered. "I am not a Mother Duck! I'm not a mother at all!"

Pidge leveled him with a glare that would have frozen the deepest pits of hell. "Really? I seem to remember someone almost breaking their nose trying to get out of their lion. Oh, and also, I have photographic evidence of you sleeping at Lance's bedside. Mother. Duck." Turning back to her screen, she muttered beneath her breath, "Or something more disturbing. How did I ever get surrounded by such lovesick puppies?"

Crouching back beside her, his eyes narrowing, Keith asked, "I didn't hear you. Is there something I should know?"

"No, but Coran and Allura sure heard me," she spit back, jerking her chin towards the pair trying to muffle their laughter. Her voice raised nearly to a shout as she continued. "Go back to Lance! Did you hear me that time?"

Jerking back, his face contorted in something similar to discomfort. "Yeah, loud and clear. I'm leaving." He could feel the trio's eyes on his back as he left the room.

 


	2. Chapter 2

A knock sounded at Lance's door. The rhythm was familiar, the firmness of the taps a clear indicator that Keith was back. He'd never noticed before, never realized he'd been paying attention to the way a person's feet sounded on the floors, how they could be light or heavy or scattered depending on the person. Hunk and Coran had come by, standing outside his door for several long moment before dejectedly starting off without even knocking.

They say that your other senses become enhanced to make up for the loss of another sense. He never realized exactly how acute the change was. He'd only been blind for a few days at most? He wasn't sure how long he'd been in that bed in the infirmary, but already he could hear the shuddering exhale of Keith's breath outside the door. Before, he'd barely even been able to pick out voices passed the thick metal.

"Lance, I know you're awake," Keith called, his voice loud against his ears as he shouted through the door, tapping again.

Sighing heavily from his place on the floor, he called, "Come in." His head was tilted back against the edge of the bed as he fiddled idly with the seams of his jacket spread over his legs.

The door slid open, and Keith settled down in front of him, close enough that his feet brushed the rough material of his pants.

Shuddering, Lance pulled his leg back towards him, tucking his foot beneath his thigh.

Keith was silent for a long moment, his exhales long as if he were trying to steady himself. "Uh, Pidge told me to give you this." He placed a thin metal cylinder in his hands, his warm fingertips brushing against Lance's as he wrapped his fingers around it.

Lance frowned, trying his hardest to ignore how his heart trembled at the brief contact. His chided it silently, reminding it that they had touched accidentally a number of times, and no so accidentally a number of other times, like during training for instance. To distract himself, he ran his fingers along the smooth surface. "What's it supposed to be? Is it like one of those stupid Christmas crackers, Pidge style? Are my fingers going to get chopped off when I figure out how to open it?"

There was the shifting of fabric like Keith was moving closer or shrugging. "I don't know. She said something about Daredevil and not hurting people with it because she can make anything look like an accident. Something like that."

Despite himself and the groan that slipped from his throat, a grin spread across his lips. "Pidge made me a cane. Of course she would have thought of it. And she's right, I'm going to become Daredevil with this thing. Once I figure out how to open it..." He brought it close to his face as he ran his fingers over every inch of the thing. He could hear the ticking of gears within. "If she made me a pipe bomb, I'm going to be pissed. Who gives a blind man a pipe bomb as a joke? That's just cruel."

"I don't think she would do that."

"Pidge would do anything to get a laugh."

"Right..." Keith trailed off, shifting again. Suddenly, his breath was fanning across Lance's fingers and he had to forcibly restrain himself from jerking back. "Also, who is Daredevil?"

Lance's jaw went slack, and he stared in horror in the general direction he assumed Keith's eyes would be. "What do you mean 'who is Daredevil'? How do you not know who Daredevil is? That's like not knowing who Batman or Captain America are!"

"Well, I know who they are. They have movies and stuff. I don't really think it's the same."

"Daredevil has a movie too! Not a very good one, but a movie all the same! And a show too! Did you live under a rock your entire childhood?"

"Never physically, but it definitely felt like it sometimes."

"Tell me you at least know Green Lantern or Wolverine. Or Deadpool! I'll take you knowing who Deadpool is and wipe the slate completely clean."

Keith hummed, muttering, "I know Wolverine. He's the guy with the claws, right?"

"He's the guy with the claws," Lance scoffed, rolling his eyes as he continued to slide his fingers over the cylinder, "We need to get you caught up on your comics. I'll have to see if Pidge can find a way to get all of the movies. Really, who doesn't even know Wolverine?"

"I said I knew who he was," Keith snapped. He squeaked in surprise as Lance pressed his thumb to one end of the cylinder, his warmth and breath suddenly disappearing from Lance's vicinity.

The cylinder extended into a long cane, and as Lance ran his fingers along the length of it, he realized why Pidge had told him not to beat up on people with it. The end tapered into a sharp point that, if used correctly, could easily render a person to shreds. He pressed the tip of his finger to the end and screeched as electricity shot through his body. He dropped the cane, shuddering with the residual energy. "What does Pidge think I'm going to do with the cane? Fight people? I'm not going to leave this room if I can help it!"

Keith was laughing, and Lance could imagine it, his head thrown back, his mouth gaping wide as the laughter rolled off his tongue. "You- oh god, your face was priceless! I only wish I'd had a way to record that!"

"Yeah? So you can watch it whenever your feeling depressed? Or maybe you'd use it as blackmail? I'm going to guess the second one."

"Definitely the second," Keith confirmed through a muffled giggle.

The smile Lance could imagine on his face had his heart pattering quickly against his rib cage, heat flushing his skin. He stared at Keith blankly. "That's cold, friend, very cold. Who does that to a blind man?"

Another laugh exploded from Keith, and the unmistakable sound of him flopping onto his side greeted Lance's ears. "Pidge apparently," he gasped out.

Keith's laugh was infectious, and suddenly, Lance found himself laughing along side him, clutching at his side and shaking his head. "Terrible! You're both horrible people! How did I ever make friends like you two?"

His laugh going muffled again, Keith said, "Chance and necessity mostly."

"Hey, I'll have you know, Pidge and I have been best buds for a while."

"And how does that change anything?" Keith asked, the smugness in his voice overlaid by the laughter still falling from his lips.

Lance couldn't find it in him to be irritated, so instead, he huffed, leaning back against the side of his bed. "Whatever. Mean."

"Yep, I'm just a mean girl," Keith said, "Remember, on Wednesdays we wear pink."

Lance gaped over at him, his chin all but dragging along the floor. "Keith, did you just... Did you just make a pop culture reference? One from this century?" he shouted, scrambling to his feet and back onto the bed, "Who are you, and what have you done with my Keith?" His jaw snapped shut as the words tumbled from his mouth, the heat spreading across his neck becoming almost unbearable. ' _Co_ _ñ_ _o, co_ _ñ_ _o, co_ _ñ_ _o_!'

His words only seemed to make Keith laugh harder, and he wondered if he would die of suffocation. He'd never heard Keith laugh this long, not as long as they'd been two of the five paladins of Voltron. It just wasn't something that happened, no matter how hard he tried to pull even a smile from him.

A snort burst into the room as Keith sucked in air.

Laughter bubbled up in Lance's chest as he pressed his hand over his mouth. "Did you just snort?" he snickered, trying his utter best to restrain his smile, but it was useless as Keith snorted again. "Oh god, don't die!"

The snorts interspersed the laughter, only serving to send them into a never ending spiral of giggles. As soon as they'd calmed down enough to slow their laughter, inexplicably another snort would break through and they'd be off again. "Fuck," Keith gasped, "Oh, my sides hurt!"

"That happens when you can't stop laughing!"

"Please let the torture end," Keith gasped, his laughter finally dying away. He sighed in relief, sucking in grateful lungs of breath. "I've never laughed that hard in my life." A giggle slipped passed his lips. "I'm going to be so sore tomorrow. Someone kill me."

"What would be the fun in that?" Lance asked as his own breathing came back under control. "It's been a while since I've laughed that hard. The last time was when Hunk made me pee myself. He's only managed it twice in our friendship."

"You can laugh so hard you pee?"

Raising an eyebrow, Lance replied with a bemused, "Yes? Have you never heard of that happening?"

"No," Keith whispered, and Lance could feel the shift in the atmosphere as it turned solemn, "I've always kind of been alone. I've never really had friends. I've spent more time with everyone on this ship than I ever have with anyone in my life. It's... nice."

Lance was quiet for a few moments, staring down at the floor. "What... what do you mean? I know you lived in that shack in the desert for a year, but... didn't you..." He trailed off, the image of his family surfacing in blackness. Immediately following, he saw every time he'd seen Keith walking through the halls of the Garrison, a text book tucked beneath his arm, or when he'd seen him in the dining hall at an empty table. Alone. He'd always been alone. His throat seemed to close, his breathing a little more difficult as he swallowed.

"I'm an orphan," Keith said as if it didn't matter, didn't mean anything to him, his voice nonchalant, "I was moved around a lot of foster homes before the Garrison picked me up. I was never able to stay in one place long. ' _Disciplinary issues_ ' is what my record said. That's what my record at the Garrison said too followed by ' _failure to adapt_ '." He laughed again, but there was no humor behind the sound this time. "I've always been alone."

This time it sounded empty, numb, and Lance shivered. He crawled back to the floor, running his hand along the smooth surface until he nudged Keith's arm, rapping his fingers around his shoulder. "Well," he started, his voice tight, "You're not anymore. You've got all of us here for you. You've got us as your ragtag family now." Swallowing, he forced a smile onto his lips. "And I'm going to make it my mission to make you pee yourself from laughing before we get back to Earth, and when we do get back to Earth, rest assured you are welcome as part of my family. Mom would love to have another son, Dad too. He only got two sons out of seven kids, so it'll be a welcome relief."

Keith snorted again, but neither laughed in it's wake. "How did this go from me trying to cheer you up to you having to cheer me up?"

"It's called being friends. It's what we do." His smile widened into something more genuine, but Keith didn't respond.

A knock sounded at the door, loud and intrusive. Lance startled, glancing up in its direction. They were still for a long moment when the knocking came again and they scrambled away from each other, Lance slipping on the cane as he attempted to stand and yipped like a wounded dog as he stumbled forward against Keith's waiting chest.

The door slid open, Hunk's voice following. "Lance, are you alright..." He trailed off, the silence following the most uncomfortable few seconds the three of them had ever experienced even as Keith's arms tightened around him. "Uh, sorry, should I just..."

"No!" Lance piped up, jerking away from Keith's arms, "No. No, it's fine. I just slipped on the cane Pidge made me. What's up, Hunk?"

"Oh, okay," Hunk mumbled as Lance righted himself though Keith's hands never left his elbows, "Are you up to eating something? It's about dinner time."

"Um..." Lance mumbled, not really feeling the whole social interaction aspect of eating, but there was a deep gnawing in the pit of his stomach that he hadn't felt since he'd woken up.

Before he could decide, Keith squeezed his elbow. "You should. You haven't eaten in a week."

"He's right! You need to keep your strength up to heal," Hunk added, a smile and apprehension warring for space in his voice.

At the thought of leaving the room, the hunger turned quickly to nausea. Lance bit his lip. "I don't know... I don't know if I can keep anything down right now," he admitted, rubbing at the back of his neck. Keith's hand on his elbow was calming, a familiar warmth that he hadn't ever realized was familiar. He pushed gently into it, and Keith's fingers slid down to his forearms but not away.

"You should try. It'll do you some good, and so will the company. The others are worried about you," Keith told him, voice easy and softer than it was on a normal day to day basis.

Lance was silent for just a moment longer before nodding. "Okay, yeah, I'll try. Just... let me put on some clothes, I guess." He glanced around, his shoulders slumping when he realized he had no idea where his clothing were.

When Keith's hand fell away from his arm, he felt an immediate and sharp loss. He frowned, dropping his chin and pressing a hand to his chest. That was definitely new.

Keith was back in seconds, pressing his clothes into his chest. "Here. We'll be waiting outside whenever you're done." His fingers lingered for a moment passed necessary as Lance wrapped his arms around the fabric before moving away.

The door slid open and closed, and Lance's breath was the only sound left in the room. His breath hitched, and the smallest of whimpers slipped from his lips.

.....

"How is he?" Hunk asked quietly, hoping Lance wouldn't hear them through the door.

Keith bit his lip, considering. "Better, I think, but I don't think a little bit of jokes and laughing are going to make him go back to normal anytime soon." He looked towards the door, his heart shuddering with the itch of helplessness that sat beneath his skin. "I don't know if he'll ever go back to normal."

Hunk nodded, glancing back at the door. "He will... It'll just take him some time and space. He'll go back to normal eventually."

They pressed their lips together as the door opened, revealing Lance, cheeks and nose red as if he'd started crying while dressing. Keith sighed inwardly, staring sadly at the seams of Lance's shirt sitting on top of his shoulder and the redness around his cloudy eyes. "Alright, ready to go!" Lance chirped, though his voice was forced.

"Lance, you're-" Hunk started, raising his hand, but with a sharp look from Keith, he dropped his hand, clearing his throat, "Y-your, uh, your hair looks great, right now! I just thought your should know!"

It didn't. They stared at the ends sticking up every which way, more reminiscent of a bird's nest than actual hair at that point. Lance perked up, running his hand back through his hair, only serving to muss it up more, "Really? I thought for sure it was going everywhere."

"No, no, it looks great," Hunk reassured him even as his stared at Keith pleading.

Stepping forward, Keith reached up. "You just have some hair sticking up here," he said, pushing Lance's hand out of the way and attempting to comb through the worst of the tufts.

Lance stared down at him, a little dazed, a little surprised, a little something else that Keith couldn't identify. When he backed away, Hunk was glancing between them, a question in his raised brows.

Keith cleared his throat, vigorously ignoring the heat rising along his cheeks. "There. Now you don't look quite like you're homeless," he muttered, earning a laugh from Lance. He frowned, noticing the specific lack of the cane Pidge had fashioned. "Do you want to practice walking with the cane?"

Rubbing at the back of his neck, Lance mumbled, "Um, I'd kind of like to just practice walking right now. I'm still kind of wobbly."

"Okay. Let's practice walking then," Keith agreed, stepping forward before Hunk could to hover at his side. When Lance placed a hand on his shoulder, Keith grabbed his elbow gently.

"Lead the way, Hunk!" Lance shouted, his enthusiasm less forced this time.

"Yeah, uh, sure. Just tell me if I'm going too fast," Hunk agreed, eyeing them for a long moment before turning and starting back down the hall.

Keith pulled at Lance's elbow gently, and he took a hesitant step forward, wobbling on his feet.

.....

The door to the dining room opened, all conversation grinding to a halt, and the smell hit him. Lance's mouth began to water, his limbs trembling, not from the effort of feeling like a newborn deer on his legs, but from the sudden rush of ' **home** ' as it crashed into him. "Hunk, is that what I think it is?" he asked, the excitement far from feigned. His stomach gurgled, slamming against his abdomen in an attempt to reach what he knew must be somewhere in front of him.

He could hear the wideness of Hunk's smile as he said, "I thought you could use something to cheer you up. I finally found stuff that tasted at least close to everything, and it smells pretty similar too."

"It smells exactly how Mama used to make it, Hunk!" Lance shouted, dragging Keith along as he hurried forward, "How did you do that? Hunk, this is amazing!" He jerked to as stop as Keith pulled him up short, guiding him in a different direction.

"Over here, Lance. This seat's open," Keith said, releasing Lance's arms and instead grabbing his wrists to set his hands on the back of a chair.

Lance fumbled, pulling the chair out and feeling down it to the seat to ease himself down. He scooted forward, hands on the edge of the table.

"Really, it was nothing. I just had to find the right stuff. I don't think I would have managed if Keith hadn't helped me out. I was pulling a complete blank on what would all taste right," Hunk said, his voice coming closer as the smell was placed right beneath his nose. "Fork is off to your right. Your glass is upper left. Think... three o'clock for your fork and ten o'clock for your cup."

"Thanks, Hunk," Lance said quickly, but his face was turned in the direction he'd heard Keith sit, sporting a smile brighter than the sun. "Thanks, Keith. This is really amazing."

"I just helped with the ingredients. Hunk was the one who made it," Keith explained, voice slightly dazed.

"Either way, thanks you two! And you too, Pidge, for the cane. And Allura and Coran for keeping me alive," Lance said, his head still turned towards Keith as he was the only one he knew for sure where he was.

"Anytime," Pidge piped up from Keith's right.

"Of course," Allura and Coran said from the head of the table.

Lance dropped his head, his smile turning bashful. "You guys are too good to me."

"No, I think we're just good enough," Pidge said. Another chair scrapped out to Keith's right. "Are we allowed to eat now that everyone is here?"

"Yes, let's eat!" Lance shouted, slapping around for his fork, seemingly flinging it across the table. "Quiznak," he muttered as the others exploded in laughter and Keith sighed heavily.

"Here, take mine while I look for yours." Keith placed the end of his fork against Lance's palm as he stood from his chair. "Honestly, I think you pulled off a magic trick because your fork is gone."

"Sorry," Lance said apologetically, scrubbing at the back of his head, "But at least we know I can do magic now. That might come in useful later."

"Shut up and eat your food," Keith snapped from across the room.

"Yes, Mom," Lance snapped back sarcastically. He pulled the plate close to him, inhaling deeply. He nearly screamed when when he shoveled the first mouthful of food into his mouth. "Hunk, this tastes exactly how Mama used to make it! Hunk!" he shouted through the food.

"You're not the only one with magic, Lance," Hunk replied, a chuckle in his voice.

From across the room, Keith shouted, "It was in the air vent! What the quiznak?" His footsteps marched closer and he fell into his seat again. "You are not allowed to touch silverware unless someone gives it to you. I am not going to be fetching anymore forks from the air vent," he groused, his words muffled.

The table burst into laughter again. Lance's grin only grew wider.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm shit at slow burn. Enjoy the kisses!

Flopping back onto his bed, his coat discarded at the end, his shoes in a corner of his room that would take him a year to find, he sighed into the air above him. Happiness overwhelmed him. “That was the best dinner we've ever had here, save for the time we got into a food fight with Allura and Coran. It's like being home.”

“It was... good. Really good. Hunk said that it's your favorite meal?”

Nodding, Lance sat up, staring towards Keith's voice as a twinge of homesickness seeped through his body, though dampened by his companions on the ship. His lip trembled just the slightest as he whispered, “Yeah. Mama used to make it before we immigrated to the U.S., then she stopped for some reason. She'd make it for special occasions though.”

Keith hummed, stepping further into the room. “That's... good.” They were silent for a long moment, their breath quiet in the small space, Lance's heartbeat overbearingly loud against his eardrums. Clearing his throat, the door slid open as Keith stepped back towards it. “I guess... I'll just, uh, go then and try to get some sleep,” he said slowly, but the door didn't slide closed again.

Sitting bolt upright, panic wrapped nimble fingers around his heart, squeezing until pain slipped through his chest. “Keith... Wait...”

Keith's footsteps came back into the room. The door slid closed. “What is it? Do you need something before I go?”

Swallowing down the panic that had risen in his throat, he smiled shakily. “J-just...” He couldn't bring himself to ask Keith to stay, not with mortification lurking only moments away. “Uh, um, th-thank you... for everything today.”

Keith was quiet a moment longer, his swallow almost concussive in the silence. “Yeah, n-no problem. A-an-anytime. I'm just next door if you need anything.” Lingering, he finally turned from the room.

“S-sure...” Panic wrapped around him more tightly as the door slid closed. Pushing himself back along the bed until his back was pressed into a corner, he trembled. He wrapped his blanket over his head and shoulders, and pulled his knees against his chest.

…..

Keith rolled his eyes towards the clock sitting on his dresser. A minute ticked by. Another. Another. The numbers were bleary and indistinguishable to his exhausted eyes. He couldn't say how long he'd been lying awake, just that he had been staring at the ceiling so long he knew every imperfection. Sighing heavily, he pressed his arm over his burning eyes. Hell, he was tired. His body was weighed down, aching, groaning, begging for rest. Over the passed week, he'd slept once, but that had been on the third day after the mission when his body had finally refused to continue. To add on to that, he'd only managed a few hours, his head pillowed on the edge of Lance's infirmary bed.

His body was exhausted, but still, his mind insisted on replaying those moment after returning to the castle, the terror that had played across Lance's face when the realization had hit him, the words he'd cried while caged in the healing pod with only his nightmares as company.

A knock sounded at his door, and he startled. He allowed his breath to return to normal. “Come in.” The door slid open, but he didn't look up, fixing his eyes on the seam of metal that ran above him. “Pidge, I can't be a guinea pig for you again. I am not having a repeat of last-”

“It's not Pidge.” Keith shot up, staring at Lance where he stood in the doorway, rubbing at the back of his neck, pillow and blanket clutched to his chest. Despite the low light, the red staining his cheeks was glaringly obvious as he muttered, “Sorry is I woke you up. I just... I can't sleep, and usually if someone else is in the room with me it makes it easier, but Hunk's room is like two halls away, and Pidge would punch me for disturbing her plotting because I don't think she ever sleeps to begin with, and that's a big no on Coran, and _Abuela_ would beat my ass if she ever heard I slept in a girl's room, so Allura's out of the question, and I didn't want to bother you, but you're the closest one to my room, and I actually know how to get here. I mean, the doors are right next to each other, and-”

Keith cut into his babbling. “Lance, it's fine. I get it. Watch out for my boots. They're at your one o'clock. Don't trip over them.”

Lance darted far from the boots, farther than he needed to to skirt around them. “O-okay. Is your floor clean?” He laughed nervously at himself. “Stupid question. Of course your floor is clean. You live like a monk, or a nun, or a... very lonely... hermit? That doesn't make any sense. What's another example? I can't-”

Keith sighed. “I'm not going to make you sleep on the floor.”

Lance threw his hands into the air, reminding Keith that, yes, he was in fact, still the same drama queen he'd always been. He was silently relieved. “Then where do you expect me to sleep? The bathtub? If we had bathtubs, I might actually consider it, but we don't. I could sleep in your drawers, but my fat ass if probably just going to break them-”

“Lance,” Keith snapped sharply, his patience wearing dangerously thin with the hour and the three sleepless nights that was quickly bleeding into a fourth that he'd been trudging around with the entire day. Crawling to the edge of his bed, he wrapped his fingers around Lance's bony wrist, jerking him forward to stumble against the edge of the mattress. “Just lay down. I'm exhausted, and would like to go back to trying to sleep. And seeing as I'm not Rose and you weigh about thirty pounds more than Pidge, I'm not going to let you drown on my floor, Jack.”

“Hey! I weigh way more than just thirty pounds over Pidge's 110. I at least weigh thirty-five more pounds.” He went silent, the unmistakable flush of embarrassment curling along his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. Tentatively, he crawled into the bed, placing his pillow at Keith's feet and spreading out his blanket. “How long have you been awake? Since the mission, I mean.”

Sighing through his nose, Keith blinked, his eyelids heavy as lead, the warmth of the body next to him easing his own into a sense of safety. “I slept for three hours on the third night since we got back, but other than that, I've been awake,” and because he's more than just physically exhausted, the truth tumbled from his mouth without prompting. “I was awake waiting for you to wake up.”

“How... how long was I asleep?”

“A week.”

“Keith,” Lance hissed reproachfully, but nothing followed.

Turning his back to Lance, Keith pressed close to the wall, giving Lance as much space as he could manage without becoming one with the cool metal. It reminded him achingly of the times he'd shared a bed with the other foster kids in his homes sometimes.

He was sure they were close to sleep when Lance shot up, whispering urgently, “Did you make a _Titanic_ reference?”

Huffing out a quiet laugh, he said, “Go to sleep.”

After a moment, their breaths evened out, syncing to one another as quickly as they tended to argue. They slipped easily into sleep after that, the breath of another echoing through the room, calming their clamoring nerves, quieting their incessant minds, sending them into dreams on the promise of company upon awakening.

…..

Lance's shuddering, gasping breaths woke him only a few hours later, sending his body up to search for the utterly helpless sound assaulting his ears. Reaching out blindly, he clamped a hand over Lance's shoulder, dragging him close. Somewhere in the hours since sleep had claimed them, one of them had flipped around in the wake of dreaming, pressing shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip.

Curled into the smallest ball his lanky body could manage, Lance shuddered beneath Keith's hand, whispering beneath the gasp of his breath.

“Lance! Lance wake up!” Keith called, shaking him roughly into reality, a terrified cry scratching up his throat. “It's alright, Lance, calm down. You're home. You're here. You're safe.”

His clouded blue eyes wide, he reached out for him, pulling him forward until their forehead bumped against each other. “I can't see. I can't see. I can't see,” he whispered frantically, holding Keith so close their breaths fanned across each other's faces. “The walls, they're so close. Keith, they're so close. I can't breath. I can't breath.” His words were a gasp, barely audible even in the silence of the night. “I can't breath- I can't- I-” His gasps turned wheezing, his fingers tightening around Keith's shoulder as his eyes slipped closed. “Keith-”

“Lance, shh, it's fine. You're fine. There's no walls, just me,” Keith murmured, pulling Lance up against his knees so they were chest to chest, their noses barely brushing. “Just focus on me, focus on my breathing. I'm right here. Just breath with me.” He was frantic, his heart matching the beat of a hummingbird's wings.

Keith inhaled deeply, and exhaled slowly, an easy four seconds in through his nose and five seconds out through his mouth, an attempt to calm himself as much as Lance. The first few times, Lance's breath hitched, stuttering into his lungs.

“Keith, I-”

“Shh, just breath, Lance.” For the first time since they'd met, Lance did as he was told. He only breathed, words lost in the rhythm. When his breathing had finally slowed to meet Keith's pace, their heartbeats a matching pulse, did he finally speak. “See? You're alright, just keep breathing.”

“Keith, I-I'm sorry. I don't mean to be useless. I don't want to be useless. I'm sorry. I'm sorry,” Lance whispered, dragging Keith closer, “I can't see. I can't see, and I can't shoot, and I can't fly. I can't fight, and that means I'm useless. It's so dark, Keith, so fucking dark.”

“You're not useless, Lance,” Keith told him, his throat tight. He closed his eyes against the sight of Lance's sightless eyes, the warmth across his face growing steadily with each brush of Lance's breath across his mouth. “Even if you're blind, we need you more than you know. We'll need you as long as we need Voltron, and you'll be with us until the end. You're important to all of us. You're important to...” His throat closed around his words, and he debated them for only half a second before forcing them passed the blockade. “...to me. You're important to me.”

Shock rolled through Lance, tensing his body, but he didn't pull away. “Keith, I...” He trailed off, thinking better of his words as his eyelashes fluttered against Keith's cheek. “I want to...” He pressed forward carefully, closing the small distance between them, letting his lips trail softly against his. They were still for a long moment before pulling apart. “Keith-”

Keith pressed back forward, deepening the kiss on contact.

Lance gasped into his mouth, letting himself be lowered back to the bed, his arms wrapping securely around the back of Keith's neck. He opened to him, pulling Keith over to lay on top of him. “Keith,” he moaned into his mouth, hooking his heel over Keith's calf, “Keith, please, I just-”

With difficulty, Keith pulled back, his breath short and hot against Lance's mouth. They were close, so close. It would be nothing to close that distance, fall back into the sweetness that was Lance's lips and tongue and teeth. “No, Lance. This is... this is not right, not like this, not so quickly.”

“Keith-”

“Lance,” he said, his voice sharper than he'd meant it to be, Lance flinching beneath him, withdrawing his arms. Regret owned him, and he softened his voice. “Let's just... take it slow, okay? We just lost Shiro not so long ago. You only just woke up, and you're still learning how to work through your blindness. Right now is... it's not the right time for... for this.”

Swallowing, Lance nodded slowly, but still, he reached for Keith's face, cupping his cheeks in trembling palms. “Some might say that it's the perfect time then. My mom would have,” he said, tracing his thumbs across his cheekbones, the bridge of his nose, his jaw. “But you're right. It's not the right time. I just... can I kiss you one more time?”

Echoing Lance's swallow, he nodded, leaning down to meet Lance halfway. They fell into each other, the darkness melting into a cocoon around them until sleep dragged them under once more.

…..

Another few hours had passed when he next woke to a decidedly empty bed. He sat up quickly as the cold of the mattress beside him dragged at his mind, the lightness of his limbs startling him as he moved and nearly threw his arm into the wall. “Lance?” he grumbled groggily, rubbing at his eyes with his knuckles, “Lance?” His room was empty, void of any other bodies, his jacket gone from where it had been hung against the wall.

Nearly catapulting himself from his bed, Keith scrambled to pull on his pants and boots. He didn't pause to knock on Lance's door before throwing himself into his room.

Lance's room was as empty as his own had been, bed void of blankets and pillows. His jacket lay accusingly at the foot of the bed as if he were at fault for not being on its owner's back, and he jerked it into his arms, stumbling back into the hall. He jumped around Pidge as she dragged herself down the hall toward the bathroom, blinking widely as she stared after him. “Sorry, sorry,” he shot over his shoulder, not looking back.

“Where are you going?” she called after him, “What's going on?”

…..

Lance was sitting on the floor cross legged, staring up at Blue when Keith skidded in, his breath a rush as words tumbled from his mouth and he marched towards him, “Lance, what the fuck?”

Glancing towards his voice, he pulled self-consciously at the cuffs of his jacket. They were shorter than normal, the material strange beneath his fingers. “What? What did I do now?” he asked, fiddling with the cane lying across his lap. He could feel Blue purr at Keith's entrance and scowled up at her. “You're not making this any easier, babe. You're supposed to be on my side, remember?”

Keith's light footsteps stopped close to him, joints cracking as his voice dropped closer. “Who are you talking to?”

Lance waved him away, still staring up at Blue. “Just Blue. I was talking to her, but she's betrayed me!” He raised his voice, and suddenly, he could feel Red's purr resonating with Blue's just behind his breastbone. He frowned, rubbing at the spot just above his heart. “What? Now you've even got Red ganging up on me? Low blow, Blue, low blow. I expect that from Red with Keith as her pilot. I didn't expect that from **my own lion**.”

“What about Red? And what do you mean by 'with Keith as her pilot'?” Keith asked, grabbing Lance's shoulder as he sat beside him. The lions purred loudly at the contact. “Oh, she's purring. Red, what are you guys getting up to?”

“Don't either of you dare, you traitors,” Lance threatened, pointing the cane up at them. “I'll turn you both into scrap metal. Mark my words.” He dropped his voice, muttering under his breath. “Fucking lions trying to play matchmaker. Who even taught them that?”

“Matchmaker?”

“Don't you worry your mullet head about it. What did you come running down here for anyway?”

Keith was silent, and Lance could imagine him staring blankly at him, before he sucked in a breath. “Right. Yeah. Why the hell are you down here? I wake up and there's literally no sign of you.”

Lance smiled passed the constriction of his heart. “Aw, were you worried about me, Keef?”

There was a beat of silence, then Keith murmured, “Yes, actually.”

“O-oh,” he stammered, mentally backpedaling now that he was definitely an asshole. He'd been expecting evasion, a distracting insult, something other than admittance. His world tilted just slightly. In his ears, it sounded like he was throwing his worry back in his face, and he internally winced at the thought. “O-oh, sorry. Sorry. I just... Blue woke me up this morning. She was mad because I hadn't been down to talk to her since waking up.”

“She has all the right. It has been a week, but you couldn't have, I don't know, woken me up or something. 'Hey, I'm going down to have a metaphysical conversation with my giant space lion.' That's all I'm asking for. Nothing crazy.”

“Sorry,” Lance repeated, voice small, “It looks like I've been making you worried a lot recently.”

“Yes, well, it just comes with the territory.” There was a shuffle of cloth, and a warm thigh pressed flush against his. “I have another question for you.”

Ignoring the heat rising from beneath his collar, Lance said in a squeak, “Go for it. We've got nothing but time.”

There was a grin in Keith's voice when he continued. “How long are you going to keep wearing my jacket? I know it's warm, but you have your own. Also, why didn't you put pants on before coming down here?”

The heat exploded, and Lance tried his hardest to ignore the obvious reason for it as he jerked at the cuffs. “What? I'm not wearing your jacket. This is mine. It was hanging up this morning.”

“I'd like to remind you which of us can see right now, and I can guarantee you, you are wearing my jacket. You left yours on the end of your bed last night. What about the pants?”

“I don't have shoes on either,” Lance pointed out, stretching a leg high and wiggling his toes freely.

Before Keith could reply, the alarms blared overhead. They groaned loudly, Keith dragging Lance to his feet as he stood. “We never get a moment of peace around here,” he muttered, rushing towards Red as Lance threw himself into Blue.

“Always!” he called over his shoulder, still wearing a jacket that didn't belong to him.

…..

It was a false alarm.

Pidge retrieved them thirty minutes later, a smirk curving her lips. “We having a party down here?” she called, staring up at the two lions, “How long are you going to sit in there? Hunk accidentally set off the alarm system.”

“Oh Hunk!” Lance groaned, stumbling down to the hangar bay floor, tapping the cane wildly in front of him, “I just wasted thirty minutes my life that I'll never get back!”

“Not like you were actually going to be doing anything productive. You'd probably end up doing the same thing we just spent it doing,” Keith snapped as he joined the pair. He flushed hotly as Pidge raised an eyebrow at him, surveying Lance's jacket hanging on his frame. “Don't say a word,” he hissed.

“Say a word about what?” Lance asked, migrating towards Keith.

Pidge hummed, running her eyes down Lance. “Oh nothing. Say, when did you and Keith trade jackets?”

“I-it was an honest m-mistake. I-I picked u-up the wrong jacket this morning is all,” Lance stammered, followed immediately by Keith pressing a palm over his heated face.

“Oh, so you guys stayed in the same room last night? Very interesting.”

Devolving into a completely incoherent mess, Lance stomped away, heading towards a wall instead of the door. Neither of them stopped him.

Keith groaned as he ran his fingers back through his hair, tugging at the strands at the nape of his neck. He paused. “Pidge, this does not leave this hangar bay,” he muttered under his breath, still tugging at the strands, “But... uh, can I ask you for a favor?”

“That depends. Lance is already leaving in your jacket, and I don't know if you're ready to be indebted to me, but go on.”

Closing his eyes as he exhaled, he asked, “Cam you help me cut my hair?”

…..

The next alarm went off just over a day later. It was not a false alarm. They'd been in their lions in moments, and they'd done what they always do. They'd fought. They'd fought and they'd survived, but Blue's shock had nearly set her immobile.

She shuddered around Lance, trembling with the realization the he could see through her eyes, but she could not see through his. It wasn't right. It wasn't natural, and she rebelled. As they landed in the safety of the hangar bay, she ejected him. She set him gently on the floor before sitting back and going dormant, unresponsive to his words.

A sob fell from his mouth.

“Alright,” Keith sighed, stepping passed the others to where he'd crumpled in front of her, his head tucked against his knees, his hands thrust into his hair, “Come on. There's no use in wallowing. Let's go get cleaned up, alright?” He crouched beside Lance, hand pressed gently to the spot between his shoulder blades. Hunk and Pidge hovered around them, hands hanging uselessly at their sides.

Warmth slid through his body from that single point of contact, and Lance whispered, “She doesn't want me anymore. She rejected me as her pilot. I really am useless.” The fingers in his hair tightened to the point of pain, but he wasn't paying attention anymore. He could only focus on that warmth, that soothing comfort that flowed along with it, but couldn't dampen the shattering of his heart. Blue's distant, restrained concern, her confusion, all slipped to the back of his mind.

“She's just confused. She'll come back around. She just doesn't understand why she can't see back through your eyes,” Keith explained, grasping at the straws Red as feeding him as he spoke. He hoped beyond all hope that was all it was. If Blue really had rejected him as her pilot, he wasn't sure what it would do, but he was positive it would destroy the fragile teen huddled into himself at her paws. “Give her some time. Let's go get cleaned up. You've got blood all over you.”

After a heartbeat, Lance hiccuped, nodding. “Okay... okay... but I have to come back here.”

“Later, Lance. Shower, eat, rest, then you can see Blue again. She's not going anywhere,” he told Lance sternly before turning his eyes up to Blue staring down at them, a gentle smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, “Are you, girl? This is as much your home as it is his.” Blue didn't answer him. Taking her silence as ascent, he grabbed Lance's arm, pulling it over his shoulders and placing his free hand on his waist. “You did great out there today, you know that right? You save my life again.” Glancing at the others, he jerked his head towards the door.

Reluctantly, they turned to leave, unusually subdued in their conversation.

“And I always will,” Lance murmured without feeling before a shaky but teasing smile curled up the corners of his mouth, “Because you're shit at doing it yourself. No wonder Red treats you like an actual kitten. Just a little cub.”

Blinking with bored, heavy lidded eyes, he stood, dragging Lance to his feet. “You may have a point.” He started towards the door.

Lance scrambled to get his feet under him. “I can walk on my own, Mom,” he griped, hand sliding along Keith's shoulder to come to rest on the back of his neck, “I... just might not the entire way.”

Hand pressed to the small of his back, he nodded silently. A shiver raced down his spine as Lance's fingers started to stroke at the back of his neck. “Wh-what are you doing?” he stammered. Lance came to a halt, tugging him to a stop milliseconds later. Turning, he raised an eyebrow. A look of pure, unfettered horror slipped over Lance's features, his fingers still moving over the nape of his neck. “What's wrong?”

“What happened?”

“What?” Confusion invaded Keith's chest, smothering the warmth that had been building there.

“What happened to it?” Lance repeated.

“To what? Lance, what are you-”

“You're mullet! What happened to it? Where'd your hair go?” Lance shouted over him, stepping close enough that their noses were a mere few inches apart, his free hand snapping up to join his other. He ran his fingers along the fuzz that now decorated the back of his head. “Where did it go?” His voice was whiny and petulant.

At the end of the hall, the others pulled to a stop, staring over their shoulders at them. Their gazes were curious and their mouths, by the grace of whatever gods or god or goddess looked down on Keith remained blissfully shut.

Frowning, he pulled his eyes from Lance's lips to stare into his sightless eyes. This close, he managed to snag his gaze instead of Keith's ear like was most often the case these days. “I cut it.”

“You cut it?” The horror was evident in his voice and the melodramatic way he threw his hands and eyes to the sky as if speaking to some long forgotten deity before falling back to feel along the peach fuzz. “Why?”

Keith ran a hand back through the shaggy mess that still adorned the top of his head, as per both Allura and Pidge's decision. “What? You hated my hair. Why is it suddenly a big deal?”

“What are you talking about? I never hated your hair!” Lance cried indignantly, running his fingers further up the back of his head until they reached the remnants of his previous hair.

“You did! You always made fun of it!”

“I know, but I never said I hated it. I was just pointing out the very obvious fact that it's the 21st century. No more mullet. No more ponytail,” he lamented, fingers snagging in the long locks, “Now I have to come up with a new nickname. At least there's still this. We can still give you a unicorn horn.”

Rolling his eyes, he pulled Lance's hands from his hair. “That will never happen no matter how hard you try.” He was red and warm, and specifically aware of the others' eyes still on them. He could feel the pulse of his blood in his cheeks, keeping in time with the rapid beat of his heart.

“You underestimate the vigor of my determination. You will wear a unicorn horn in due time!”

Shaking his head, he turned, stalking down the hall towards the others.

“No, wait! Keith, come back! I can't get back on my own!” Lance shouted, stumbling after him as he fumbled for his cane tucked into his belt.

“I'm sure you could make it,” Keith shot back, but slowed until Lance had caught up, catching his wrist to slow his brisk steps. “If I ever underestimated you, rest assured, your determination was never part of that list.”

A smile split Lance's lips, cracking his face wide open. He frowned as the others started walking again. “Hey!” he called, “Which one of you jerks cut off Keith's mullet? Don't you know that's sacrilege?”

The trio glanced between each other. Technically, Hunk had been the one to cut his hair, but they'd each had a hand in the outcome. Looking back at the pair still heading towards them, they each shouted, “Coran did it!” before sprinting away.

“Did Coran really do it? Something tells me he didn't.”

“Your intuition is getting better.”

Tripping over his cane, Lance said loftily, “My intuition has always been spot on. So, I've three revenges to plan.”

Steadying Lance, Keith shook his head. “It's just hair. It'll grow back eventually.”

“But not quickly enough,” Lance growled under his breath, “A treasonous act has been committed, and there must be justice.”

“Okay, Daredevil, slow down,” Keith said though a smile pulled his mouth wide, “I'm going to chew off my own arm if I don't get something to eat soon. Also, you smell disgusting.”

Leaning in close, his nose nearly pressed to the crook of his neck, Lance sniffed experimentally. Face contorting, he jerked back, his hand still on the back of Keith's neck for balance. “Well, you don't smell like a dozen roses yourself, Kogane! Maybe you should be the one showering.”

“Oh, we're back to 'Kogane' now? You haven't called me that since the Garrison, and even there, you rarely called me 'Kogane'.” He leaned in close. “Why the sudden change of heart?”

Lance spluttered with the feel of Keith's breath against his cheek. “Everyone needs a change of pace sometimes!”

Pulling back abruptly, Keith muttered, “I think we've had enough of a change of pace for awhile. We don't really need anything more.”

Seizing the courage inflating in his chest, and the only chance he would ever get to say his next words, he pulled Keith to a stop. His hand trailed around from the back of Keith's neck, cupping his cheek. Leaning forward until he could feel Keith's stuttering breaths against his lips, his eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. “I think we're short maybe just one more. There are some changes of pace that are more needed than others, more **desired**.”

He could feel Keith swallow thickly, feel it beneath his wrists pressed to the side of his neck. “You don't need this one,” he whispered, but there was barely a breath of protest as Lance drew closer.

“No, but it sure does feel like it.” He closed the distance, allowing himself to fall into the one human being he'd never thought he'd get the chance to be so close to.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Keith sighed, scrubbing a hand through his damp hair as he dropped onto the couch in the common area. He watched silently as Hunk and Lance devised obstacle courses with the express intention of helping Lance learn to use the cane and walk on his own, knees still shaky. His laughter was a burst of sunshine as he bumped into Hunk's chest, slapping him on the shoulder playfully before his face fell back into comical concentration.

Beside him, Pidge's rapid typing paused, her eyes flickering towards him. She watched him watching Lance and Hunk, a sly smile pulling at her lips. Closing her laptop and setting it aside gently, she stood on the cushions and flopped back down almost immediately to face him. She clasped her ankles, grinning as she leaned forward on locked elbows. “So... how's that going? Are you two being safe?”

Startled, Keith quickly rearranged his face from hopelessly gone to mildly confused, turning to look at her. “Pidge... what?”

She rolled her eyes, gesturing wildly towards Lance as her eyebrows made to disappear into her hairline. “Do I have to spell it out for you? Because I will. In great detail. With very detailed diagrams. It'll make sex ed at the Garrison look like a merry-go-round.”

“Sex ed?” Keith asked slowly, eyebrows pulling together before jumping apart in realization. Red bloomed across his face. “God, Pidge! No! I am not talking about that with you of all people!”

“Why? I'm as good a person as any, probably better considering your only other choices are Hunk, **Coran** and _Allura_. And while Hunk is Lance's best friend, I know all of his dirtiest secrets.” Her smile was wide, all teeth and feigned innocence.

“No. No. No. That is just... That's ridiculous! We would never-”

Pidge's next eye roll looked physically painful. She shoved her toes beneath his thigh. “You guys have already made out. It only the next logical course of action. Really, I'm surprised it hasn't happened already with the amount of sexual tension you two had mounted between you. You could of powered a small city with it.”

Keith groaned, his burning face falling forward into his awaiting hands. “We did not.”

“Sure you didn't. Just keep believing that.” She stood suddenly, towering over him. “Now, though, the courting begins.”

Eyes wide, Keith stared up at her, leaning away back along the couch. “I'm think you've got something backwards, Pidge. I'm pretty positive 'courting' comes before the mouth touches.”

“Don't be twelve. Call it what it is. You guys French kissed each other into oblivion. Several times from what the hallway session said to me,” Pidge told him. A grin pulled at the corners of her lips as she leered over him. “And now that the hard part is done, and you two don't hate each others guts, it's time to begin the process of dating.”

This time, Keith found the will to roll his eyes. “There is no dating in space, Pidge. We're literally stuck on a space ship with a limited number of spaces. Dating isn't really a possible thing out here.”

“Fine, then togetherness. We'll begin the process of togetherness. Improve your symbiotic relations so that when we do get back to Earth, I can document every hilarious attempt you two have at being a couple.”

“Why are you like this?” Keith groaned, throwing himself back onto the couch cushions. His eyes were drawn back towards Lance where he was trembling, his hand clenched tight around the cane. He frowned, barely hearing Pidge as she continued to prattle, sitting up slowly.

“See? You two are completely gone for each other and no one believed me! Everyone on the team owes me. Look at you! You're completely wrecked over Lance, of all people!”

Keith turned irritated eyes to her, muttering, “Don't talk about him like that,” before returning his gaze to him, standing slowly. “Lance?” he called tentatively, taking a step towards him.

Lance tipped sideways and then crumpled, his knees cracking against the metal floor.

“Lance!”

They were at his sides in moments. Hunk carefully pulled him to his feet. Keith slipped beneath an arm, wrapping his arm around Lance's waist. Pidge grabbed for his hands, uncharacteristic fear in her eyes.

“Lance, are you alright?” she asked carefully, looking up into his face. She glanced down at his legs where they still trembled beneath his weight. “Are your knees hurt? What about your bad knee? Is there something wrong with your legs?”

Lance shook his head, leaning heavily into Keith's side, his breath warm against his throat as he smiled reassuringly. “No, no, I'm fine. I just... lost my balance for a second. It's still kind of disorienting being blind.” He paused, his fingers squeezing Keith's waist. “My knee does hurt a little bit though... Probably the fall. Oops, clumsy me!” He grinned, laughing loudly at himself.

They chuckled along with him, but each face told a story of worry and concern.

“Let's just sit down for awhile then. We can... watch a movie!” Hunk suggested brightly.

“Yes!” Pidge agreed, all excitement, “And I can gather more samples from you, Lance, if you don't mind.”

An amused smile twisted Lance's lips as he stared at them, just a little off so he was actually staring into the middle of Hunk's chest, for a long moment. Finally, he waved a hand in front of his eyes, his expression remaining the same.

“Oh crap, sorry, Lance! We can do something else,” Hunk said quickly.

“No, no, it's fine. I just thought it was about time to make a blind joke.” Slowly, his smile turned devilish. “Hey, Pidge, what Marvel movies do you have?”

Keith groaned, rolling his eyes, and the tension broke. “Not this again.”

“Yes this again!”

…..

Keith cursed loudly in something that sounded like Korean to Lance, trembling on the cushion beside him in either revulsion or laughter. “Was that his hand? It was! It just got cut off! What the quiznak?”

Revulsion.

Glancing over in Keith's direction, Lance grinned. “That's Deadpool for you. Pretty cool, right?”

“Pretty disgusting,” Keith spat, voice muffled behind a hand or an arm, “Ugh, I think I'm going to be sick. Why is he so calm about this?”

“Like I said, that's Deadpool for you.”

“Why is he your favorite? This isn't even a superhero! And he's psychotic! **Why is he your favorite**?”

“He's actually schizophrenic, but that's just part of his charm.”

“I don't-”

Reaching over Lance, Pidge's fist connected with Keith's arm before she pulled back and did the same to Lance. They yipped, jerking away from her. “Would you two shut up? I'm trying to watch this masterpiece, and you two are ruining it with your incessant talking. If you wanted to talk through the entire thing, you should have just asked to take it to your room. Ouiznak, you two might as well just be making out. At least you'd shut up that way.”

Lance puckered out his bottom lip, staring over towards her voice. His knee throbbed in time with his pulse, and he reached out a hand to rub at it. “You're no fun, Pidge. Talking through a movie is part of the fun. You get to share theories and insight and stupid puns that you think of on the spot.”

“There's a special place in hell for people that talk through movies, Lance. You can do that when you two are alone.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, her breath fanning across his cheek. “I mean, you two shared a bed last night, so you already seem pretty comfortable in solitude. Maybe you should make it a regular thing.”

Lance jerked away, heat rising along the back of his neck as he remembered exactly what had happened that night. “You are the devil,” he hissed back.

“Why thank you,” she crooned before her voice turned flat and hard, “Now shut up.”

Crossing his arms tightly over his chest, Lance muttered, “Whatever.” He leaned towards Keith's warmth, closing his eyes when their shoulders brushed and remained pressed together. His fingers continued to rub at his knee, but the pain remained.

After a moment, warm fingers pushed his aside, cupping his knee. “You're not going to do anything rubbing it like that,” Keith whispered, messaging it gently.

“How would you know?” Lance muttered in reply, but didn't move to push Keith's hand away.

“The look on your face.”

“That doesn't even make any sense.”

They slipped back into silence. Around Lance, the world faded to the sound of his heart beat and Keith's breathing at his side.

…..

The alarms blared overhead, throwing the sleeping pair into consciousness. Keith scrambled over Lance, landing with a resounding thud on the floor. Lance groaned, rolling away from the edge as whatever body part of Keith's had gotten tangled in the blanket tugged, nearly depositing Lance on the floor with him. “No,” he whined, burying his face in a pillow, “We just fought yesterday.”

“Well, they're here again, so get up!” Keith spat as his suit landed heavily on his chest. “Lance, let's go! I will dress you if I have to!”

Quickly sitting up, Lance threw a dirty look in Keith's direction before wiggling out of his shorts and jerking the legs of his suit on. He lifted his hips, jerking at the material, reminiscent of the time he'd borrowed his sister's skinny jeans and realized his hips were wider than hers. “When did we get in bed?” he grunted, throwing his legs over the side to stand and slip his arms into the suit.

“After the movie. I was the only one still awake by the end, and the way you were sleeping looked uncomfortable.”

Grinning as their zippers pulled up in unison, Lance asked, “So you stayed the night? That's sweet, Keith.”

He could almost hear the smile in his voice as he said, “Actually, you stayed the night. We're in my room, now get moving! You move slower than molasses in the winter.”

“Well, I'm sorry that **I can't see what I'm doing**. It must be so nice to have sight. And what would you know about molasses in the winter? You lived in a shack in the desert!” The sarcasm thick in his voice, Lance slapped around the bed until his hand slammed down on his armor, pulling it on with several practiced jerks.

“It really is. The better to watch you get dressed with. And you're one to talk. You lived on a tropical island for most of your life.”

“Exactly, so neither of us can talk about molasses in the winter,” Lance said with finality, “Don't go perverting a perfectly good fairy tale, Keith. I've already had enough of you throwing around references that I didn't know you knew.”

“Getting tired of me already?” Keith's footsteps were light as they drifted towards him.

“On the contrary...” Keith's breath fanned across his face, Lance all too ready to melt under his mouth, but Allura's voice blaring over the speakers had him jerking back, grabbing at his wrist.

“We'll finish this later.”

Lance groaned, but followed after him, running as Keith pulled him towards the hangar bay. “Cabróns. Gotta go ruining everything in the universe. This is why we can't have nice things,” he grumbled, twisting his wrist to slot his fingers together with Keith's.

Squeezing back, Keith remained silent, all but sprinting through the hangar bay doors. They were the first ones there, and Lance immediately felt Blue's overwhelming hesitation. Her eyes were on him, watching him closely as they approached. Pulling up short, his fingers tore out of Keith's.

“She's not going to let me pilot her. She's... she doesn't want me anymore.” Something immediate and regretful shot through Lance, tinged her color. She whined quietly in his mind, confused and sorry. She didn't want to hurt him, but she didn't understand what had happened. All she understood was that she could no longer see the world through his eyes, and that was more terrifying than anything she'd ever faced.

Wiping the tears from Lance's face, Keith whispered, “She's your lion, Lance. I don't think she's going to reject you. She just needs an adjustment period as much as you do, and we need to fight right now. It'll be fine.”

Blue hummed an agreement into his mind, and somewhere, he could hear Red purr in agreement.

“Okay... okay, let's try this again.”

…..

“Lance...” Pidge whispered, dropping beside him to get a better look at his face. She pressed a hand to his shoulder, gripping it tightly. “Lance, this is something that needed to happen. We...”

“Don't,” he replied in his own whisper, face blank, voice monotone, “Don't say it. This is wrong. This should never have happened.”

Hunk stepped forward next, wrapping Lance in a gentle and firm hug. “Shiro's gone, and we don't know when or if he's ever going to come back.” As his words left his mouth, something in Pidge's expression shattered, and she bent her head forward to press her forehead into Lance's shoulder. “We needed a new pilot for Black. We can't fight Hagar without him. We know someone was going to have to take that position.”

Keith stood back, his shoulders tight, worry clearly written across his features. Allura stood off to the side, staring sadly at black from between Blue's paws. Hurt bloomed in her eyes, making her shoulders slump forward even as she pressed a hand to Blue's leg gratefully.

“Someone did!” Lance shouted, throwing himself back away from the pair. “Allura was Black's pilot! She was the obvious choice! If Black chose a different pilot, it should have been Keith!” He scrambled to his feet, facade breaking piece by piece. The cracks had become fissures, the fissures making way to portions that fell and shatter. “I didn't want this! Not like this! I'm Blue's pilot! She's **my** lion! She chose **me!** How can I lead when I'm broken? When there's nothing that's mine? I'm the puzzle piece lying beside a completed puzzle!”

“Lance,” Pidge and Keith said together, despair present in both of their voices.

“No!” he shouted over them, stepping back towards the hangar bay doors, “Blue rejected me as her pilot. The one she chose to pilot her from the beginning. **She rejected me!** ” Blue's whine rang clear as a bell in all of their minds, but Lance only continued shouting, growing louder as if to drown her out. “What's going to stop Black from doing the same? I'm broken! I'm **blind**! I'm more useless now than I ever was before!”

The group spoke in unison, eyes misted and trained on the shattering boy before them. “Lance, you were never use-”

Lance had backed against the hangar bay door, and as he slapped at the control panel, he whispered, “Why was I even brought here? Why am I even still here?” He turned swiftly, taking off at a tilting sprint down the hall.

The door slid closed before any of them found the ability to move. Keith reacted first, starting towards the doors. “Lance!” he called desperately, punching unsuccessfully at the control panel.

“Keith,” Allura murmured, her voice cracking over her words, “Leave him. He needs to think through this on his own.”

Keith rounded on her, fire in his gaze. “No, he doesn't! He's thought about this for too long, so long it's unfathomable. He doesn't need to be alone. He's going to do something stupid if he's alone.”

Taking a stuttering step forward, Hunk whispered, “H-how long? How long has he thought that?”

Eyes trembling as they dropped to the floor, he said, “Long enough,” before turning and taking off after him.

…..

Lance was lost, so completely, utterly lost. He'd been hopeless in the castle while still able to see, only able to travel between very specific locations, but now that he was blind... He had no idea where he was. He sat beneath a ledge, his legs curled against his chest, his fingers tracing the pale scars that marred his hips beneath his suit. There were scars he'd put there himself, and scars that had been put there by someone he had trusted when he was younger, before he'd learned how to spot people that would hurt him.

The cuts had been deep and deliberate, healing into puckered pink scars that would never fade. He forgot about them most days, but it was days like this, the bad days, when he felt the old craving for that simple hurt, that he remembered the letters carved into his skin. His wrists stung with the memories of strong fingers wrapped around them, bruising in their strength.

Biting at his lip, he dug his fingers into his flesh, palm pressed to that word. A new wave of tears burned his eyes.

“Lance.”

Keith's breathless voice slipped over him as if through water, and he shuddered. He hadn't heard his approach, hadn't heard his breath pushing hard from his lungs. “Lance,” he sighed again, pure relief present in only his name, “I've been looking everywhere for you.”

Lance kept his face pressed against his knees, fingers dug into his hip. It's not like he could see Keith anyway. “I got lost,” he whispered, dejected, “I didn't think I could make it back if I kept wandering. I should have just crawled into an air vent to die in peace.”

Keith pressed in against him, his body radiating heat and fear. The space really was too small for two teenage boys, but he pressed close, fitting beneath the ledge with him somehow. “You can't,” Keith told him, voice trembling and watery, “Don't give up.”

“What the point in trying? What's the point in continuing on when fate or god or the fucking stars seem hell bent on fucking me at every turn? I can't be the head of Voltron. It's ridiculous. It's ludicrous! I can't. I'm selfish and self-serving and stupid and **blind**. I'm fucking blind, Keith. If that isn't the biggest 'fuck you' from the universe, I don't know what is.” Licking his lips, Lance tasted salt on his tongue. “I don't want to do it anymore, Keith. I don't want to continue struggling. I don't want to continue trying. I don't want to feel this fucking black hole in my chest anymore, Keith! I'm done. I'm just... done.”

Keith's fingers slipped around Lance's wrist, pulling his fingers from his hip and cupping them in his palm. “Why did you join the Garrison, Lance?”

Startled, Lance peeked towards his voice from beneath his arms. “What?” He could imagine his face, soft and contemplative, in a rare expression he'd had the pleasure of glimpsing only a few times.

Voice quiet, fingers warm as he turned Lance's hand to run his fingers over his palm, he said, “I joined because I wanted a way out of the foster homes. I wanted to make something for myself. Shiro had already been with the Garrison for awhile, and I'm always a little star struck when he told me about everything he was doing. I wanted that. I wanted the family he promised and the friends and a home.” He was quiet for a moment, fingertips feather light and a little sweaty. “You had all of that, as I understand it. So... what made you join?”

“I... I'm not sure...” He paused, biting his lip again. “When I started to fill out the applications, it was because I wanted to make my family proud. I'd always wanted to go to space too. My mother and I would stare up at the night sky for hours naming the constellations and making up new ones. Mostly though, I wanted to give my mom everything she'd given up for all of us.”

“But,” Keith prompted.

“But right before I got my acceptance letter, it was to get away. Some... some things happened with someone I was really close with and I just... I had to get away. Cuba is just an island. It's hard to hide for long, especially when all your hiding spots are known to one person or another.”

Keith's fingers stilled. “Someone you cared about hurt you?”

Lance nodded. “Both physically and emotionally. They... they destroyed me, and I needed to get away.”

Keith's hands fell away for only a moment before returning, bare. Taking his fingers, he guided them to raised skin, the unmistakable feel of a scar beneath his fingers. His voice was gentle and soft as he said, "When I was younger, there was this foster home that I really liked. I managed to stay there for a while, almost a year and a half. It was great. My foster parents were great. Kind and almost loving at times, but it didn't last."

"What happened?" Lance whispered, grazing over the scars again and again.

"They took in more foster kids. I was already one of three when I got there. Then the twins came. Then the baby. And things got bad after that. They got violent in their own ways. My foster mother favored the closet beneath the stairs. My foster father was... mentally violent, and then he became masochistic."

"Are they... Are they cigarette burns?"

He could feel it as Keith shook his head. "No. I've always had a hard time getting burned. No. He liked knives, liked to cut a pattern and then see how long he could take away layers of skin within it before we screamed. If we screamed, we'd get worse than a knife to skin. He always used circles with me. I was lucky in that respect, I suppose. Some of the others were full drawings. If we screamed with the knife, then he went to the cooking range. We had an old stove, one with coils instead of fire. He would heat them, and then press our hand to it."

Nausea coiled in Lance's stomach. "That's... sick."

"Yes, well, some people are terrible, and we still love them despite that." He sighed, a hand disappearing for a moment before returning. "My point is that there are always going to be people who will hurt you, underestimate you, hate you, but those of us on this ship, none of us are going to be those people. We want you to be happy. We want you to feel as wanted as you are. We'll continue to fight for you even if you stop fighting for yourself."

Lance sighed, leaning heavily into Keith's heat. "I just... I'm so tired. I just don't want to try anymore."

"That's why we're here. We're your friends, Lance, and we'll fight for you until you want to again. We're family, Lance. We don't want to lose you."

"I don't know how to keep trying when I'm a burden. I'm useless now." Leaning his head against Keith's shoulder, he sighed heavily, running his thumb over the place where 'useless' was carved into his skin.

Keith pulled at his hand away, taking it from that old hurt. "We all feel like that sometimes, Lance, but I can assure you, you are nowhere near a burden or useless. I don't know how to show you that. All I have are words, but know that while you don't believe that right now, I always will."

 


	5. Chapter 5

“How is he?” Allura asked as Keith stepped out of his room, bags hanging low beneath his eyes, hair a tousled mess from the day's events.

He glanced up at her, eyes unfriendly and posture defensive as he blocked Lance's doorway. “I'm going to need everyone to stop asking me that fucking question. If he were alright, he'd be out here making a fool of himself. If he were alright, he'd be shoving his mouth full of food and running around with that stupid face mask he does every night and trying to challenge me to some idiotic task. If he were alright... it wouldn't be so damn quiet.” He sighed heavily, running a hand down his face. “Have you, Pidge and Coran come up with anything yet?”

Allura pressed her lips together into a thin line, watching him for a moment before continuing. “We have, but... We're going to need to get something before we can attempt to use it. We've found the Lance's optical nerves aren't detached, but...”

Keith's head snapped up sharply, fire blazing behind his dark irises. “But what?”

“There's a buildup of fluid behind his eyes blocking whatever is being sent to or from them.”

“Why can't you just... suck it out? Like Pidge did to get Lance's eye fluid? Can't you do the same thing? We have to do **something**.”

Allura sighed, shaking her head. “It's not that simple. We can't attempt to extract the fluid without possibly doing permanent damage to his eyes. We're not willing to take that risk, but we do have something else we're going to try. We just need to get the star dust first.”

Narrowing his eyes at her, he asked, “Star dust? That can't be a real thing.”

“It is, It's known for its exceptionally quick healing properties if distilled correctly. I need you to go with Pidge to retrieve it. She knows what it looks like.”

Keith was shaking his head before she'd finished speaking. “No. I can't.”

“Keith-”

“ **I can't** ,” he repeated, stepping back towards Lance's door, “I have to stay here for Lance. I'm not going to leave him alone when he's in a state like this. I won't. I won't do it. I did some pretty idiot things as a kid when I was like this. I'm not going to let Lance make my mistakes.”

“Keith, I need you to do this. For Lance. You're the best out of us when it comes to hand to hand combat, and I need you to go to keep Pidge safe. I don't know what the planet is like anymore. I don't know if it's hostile or peaceful, but it's the only place to get star dust. This is the last thing we need before we finish the solution.”

“Lance...”

“Hunk will stay with him. We've already discussed it.” Allura placed a placating hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “Don't worry, Keith. Lance won't be alone at any point while you and Pidge are gone. We don't want him to get hurt as much as you don't.”

Staring back towards the door, he remained silent.

“Keith, please.”

There was something in her voice, something breaking and pleading that finally made him close his eyes tightly and nod. “Fine. I'll do it, but Hunk never leaves Lance's side. They managed it at the Garrison. They can manage it here.”

Allura nodded, her smile gentle. “You leave in an hour. I'll send Hunk.” Her hand fell away as he turned, slipping back into Lance's room.

…..

Lance groaned, stretching his limbs to the tips of his toes and fingers. He reached out along the bed, feeling for the body that should have been beside him. Frowning, he slid his hands over the cool sheets again. “Keith?” he mumbled groggily, flopping onto his stomach and pushing himself up. “Keith?” Panic rose like maple syrup through a spatula, delayed until it spilled over.

A large, very much not Keith's hand gripped his shoulder. Startled, he grabbed it and twisted the arm until he couldn't twist without breaking.

“Ow! Lance! Lance, it's me! Let go! Let go!” Hunk shouted, curved into a shape that no one was meant to stay in for long. “Lance, please, you're stupid strong. This hurts a lot.”

Lance released him quickly, slipping back across the bed to press his back into the corner. “Hunk? Sorry. I'm sorry. Sorry. W-why are you here? Where's Keith?” He pulled his knees into his chest, nausea slamming into him with the force of a bag bricks at the thought of Keith's absence, the thought that something had happened to him. “Is he okay?” His voice trembled, his lungs refusing to drag in breath normally.

“Well, he was alright when they left, but I think he's still fine. I'm sure we would have heard from them if anything had gone wrong. Don't worry, buddy, they're going to be fine,” Hunk explained easily, pressing a cup into his hands. “Something to drink, and I've got food here too.”

It took enormous amounts of will power on Lance's part not to show that he was quietly choking for breath. “Left? They? Where did they go? Who is they? Who else went with Keith? What are they doing? Are they going to be alright?” he whispered rapidly as he forced his body away from the wall, uncurling with his urgency. “What's going on Hunk? Why isn't Keith here? Where did he go?” He gripped mercilessly at the shoulder he'd twisted.

“Ow! Woah, Lance, slow down. That hurt, man. I'm still recovering from your arm twist.” Grabbing Lance's fingers, he pried them from his shoulder. “Just take a deep breath.” Taking his own advice, Hunk inhaled deeply, his body dipping the mattress as he sat on the edge. The weight of a plate was set on Lance's knees. “Keith and Pidge went to go get something to finish whatever she's been working on with Allura and Coran. They'll be fine. They've got Keith with them.”

Lance groaned, rolling his eyes harshly. He focused on steadying the trembling in his chest as he picked at the plate of food. “That makes me feel no better, Hunk. Who's going to keep him from doing something impulsive?”

“Don't worry. They'll be fine. They should be back soon anyway. They left a while ago.”

“Oh.” He closed his eyes, squeezing them tightly against the nausea and painful lack of oxygen flowing through his lungs. Silence slid over them, uncomfortable for the first time since they'd met each other. He picked at the plate apathetically, yearning for Keith's warmth, the sound of his voice, the feel of his hand against his, and then he startled. He came back to himself as someone drowning bursts from beneath water, gasping for air. All of his movements stilled, his eyes directed towards his hand.

“Oh crap,” he whispered, realization sweeping through him, overshadowing the nausea, the pain in his chest. Desperately, he attempted to derail his train of thought, that ache of his heart, the burn of his skin where he last remembered Keith touching him, but to derail the train would mean a larger mess at the speed it was going. There was no guarantee it wouldn't just continue to barrel forward even off tracks. So, he sat helplessly as it sped towards a destination he wasn't sure he was ready to visit. This time, he moaned, “Oh shit.”

“What? What's wrong? Are you hurt somehow? Are you sick? Are you going to be sick?” Hunk snatched the plate from Lance's knee and the cup from his hand before grabbing his shoulders. “Lance, buddy, you gotta give me something. Keith would murder me if anything happened to you under my watch.”

Pulling his shirt up, Lance buried his face in the fabric. It smelled overwhelmingly of Keith, a fact Lance was both mortified and gratified by, and he had to wonder if he was wearing one of Keith's shirts or if he'd just been around enough that his things had started smelling of him. “Hell. I guess you could say nothing except for that fact that I'm seriously stupid. I'm a fucking idiot! I'm a fucktard! **Hell**! Why would I do this to myself?”

“Do what to yourself? Dude, I can't help you if you don't talk to me,” Hunk told him imploringly, hands tightening over his shoulders.

Inhaling a deep breath, his lungs struggling to expand normally, but opening enough for him to sigh, he muttered, “I think I'm in love with Keith.”

“Oh.” Huck sat back, relief obvious in the way his weight settled back on the bed. There was a little bit of disappointment in his voice. “Is that all?”

“Is that all? **Is that all**? Hunk, do you understand what this means?” Lance shouted, voice rising an octave to just brush against the octave of hysteria.

A chuckle slipped from Hunk as his weight lifted for a moment only to return, and the weight of the plate returned to his knee and the cup to his hand. “Yeah, it means you're bisexual. Congrat. It also means you two can stop this ridiculous mutual pining thing you've got going on. Really, we're all surprised it took you two so long with how much sexual tension there is. I would think this freak out would come before all the kissing and sleeping together though.” He paused, voice muffled when he started again. “Or maybe not. Maybe that's the point. Whatever it is, we're glad for you two.”

“How is this good at all?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, confused.

Lance laughed hollowly, wrapping his other hand around the cup Hunk had given him just to have something to hold onto. “How is this going to be good for anyone when I'm the only one catching feelings? One sided falling in love has never worked out for anyone. Maybe being blind has made me stupider too. Quiznak, and I was the one who pushed for this.” He dropped his forehead to the edge of the cup, pulling his body into itself.

Hunk stayed silent for a long moment, and when he finally spoke again, disbelief rang clearly in his voice. “You really don't know?”

Lance's head popped up, turning towards Hunk. “Know what?”

“That's something you're going to have to figure out on your own,” Hunk said, standing from the bed, “I'm going to go check with Allura and see how those two are doing.”

“Wait, Hunk, what do you mean?”

“Nothing, nothing.” Before Hunk could leave the room, though, Allura's voice blared over the intercom.

' _Hunk, medical bay, now! Keith is hurt and Pidge needs help with the star dust while Coran helps me!_ '

Lance's heart beat to a stop, his stomach dropping out from under his feet. “Keith is hurt?” Before he had made the conscious decision, he snatched up his cane and tore down the hallway.

…..

Keith groaned loudly, not out of pain but out of sheer irritation, as he limped in, Pidge's arm wrapped tightly around his waist. If he was being honest, he was pretty numb, all things considered, which probably wasn't a good thing. “Why did you have to say it like that? Now he's going to be freaking out,” he groused, staring Allura down.

She shrugged, grinning widely. “I'm taking a page out of Pidge's book and conducting an experiment.”

“What kind of experiment requires making it seem like I'm dying and jeopardizing Lance's already shaky mental health?” Keith snapped, easing slowly onto the same cot Lance had slept in for a week. Even without lying down, he could smell Lance's unmistakable scent.

“A social experiment,” Allura chirped, flitting around the medical bay as she collected the supplies for his leg, “I guarantee he'll be fine once he gets his hands on you. I do have to say, I did think it was much worse when I made the call. That's a lot of blood, Keith. I didn't know it was just a broken leg and a few scratches.”

“Scratches,” Keith scoffed, wincing as Pidge quickly cut away his suit leg. There was the pain he hadn't been missing. As the fabric was pulled away, a mess of tissue and blood that had once been his leg was revealed. Maybe, possibly, hypothetically, it was a little worse than he'd been making it out to seem, but really, it was nothing he couldn't handle. _Really_ , a few stitches and a splint and Lance's hand in his, and he'd be right as rain.

The world spun around him, and his head felt lighter than the only time he'd smoked a cigarette.

Her nose wrinkling, Pidge turned to Allura. “I think he's losing a lot of blood, Princess. We should probably stop that first. He looks like he's getting-” She turned, grabbing for his shoulder quickly as he started to fall back. Shaking him, she told him just the slightest bit frantically, “Hey, Keith, don't go passing out on us. Lance would kill me if anything more happened to you. He's already never going to forgive me. Come on, keep your eyes open.”

“Too bad this was all my dumbass fault,” he croaked through the pain, lowering himself back onto the bed. He had been right. Immediately, he was enveloped in Lance's scent. He held back a sigh of contentment.

Pidge laughed wildly, just bordering on hysterical. “You may be onto something there.”

The door to the med bay slid open, and all eyes turned to find Hunk and Lance gasping as they stumbled in. Keith sat bolt upright, blanching as the airiness of his head slammed into him. “Lance?” he managed to stammer before he was thrown back into the bed, Lance's arms around his neck. “What? What's going on?”

“Allura said you were hurt! Like really hurt!” he shouted, face buried against his neck, “Are you alright? What happened? What impulsive thing got you two into this mess? Where are you hurt?” He paused long enough to feel the warmth of Keith's blood soaking through his loose sleeping pants. “I-is that blood? Is your leg hurt? That feels like a lot of blood! How much is there? Why is no one doing anything about this?” He jerked his head to stare over his shoulder, missing both Allura and Coran by more than a couple feet. “Keith is bleeding out and no one is helping him!”

There was a lilt of humor to Allura's voice as she said, “Well, you're kind of in the way, Lance. Really, it's not as bad as it probably feels.” She refused to acknowledge Hunk's retching in the corner, smiling warmly despite Lance's lack of sight.

Keith sighed, letting his eyes slip closed to enjoy the weight of Lance pressing down on him if only for a moment.

“Yeah, and thanks for noticing I'm here too. 'Hi, Pidge, how was your mission?' 'Oh, it was alright. The planet was virtually abandoned, but I almost got eaten by some giant wildabeast/spider hybrid thing, but more or less fine. Keith was a hero, and saved me again.' 'Oh, well that's good. It's great to see you alive and well thanks to my boyfriend, old friend.'” Pidge rolled her eyes, turning to take the mounds of gauze Allura held. She pressed several thick squares to Keith's leg, shoving Lance over with her hip so he was lying more completely on top of Keith than before. “Lance, seriously, you're big Cuban ass is in the way. Go do something productive.”

“But-” Lance protested.

Keith pulled Lance's arms from around his neck, gently nudging him off to the side again. “I'll be fine. It's just a few scratches, like Pidge was saying. Go sit down. Get off of your knee.”

“My knee doesn't hurt right now,” he muttered petulantly, but he stepped back, his hand still clutched around Keith's wrist. “How am I supposed to calmly sit around when I know you're bleeding out on this quiznaking cot?” His hand tightened around his wrist as red crawled up his neck.

“Lance,” Allura called, watching him carefully, “Can you come organize these shelves for me while we fix Keith up? I'm going to need someone to bring me stuff while I work, and Pidge has already got her hands full.”

“Uh,” Lance started, eyes following the sound of her voice, “Um... maybe? I mean, yeah. Yes, I can do that! That is something I can do!” Stretching out Pidge's cane, he tapped over towards Allura.

“You're getting pretty good with that cane, sharpshooter,” Keith commented, grimacing as Pidge pulled the gauze up, blood spilling forward from the wound. “P-Princess, I really think we need to so something about my leg.”

Lance spun back towards him, nearly loosing his balance as he took a quick step back towards the cot. “Are you okay? Someone explain to me what's going on! It can't be good if Hunk's puking!” he demanded.

“Nothing, nothing, buddy,” Hunk gasped quickly, shooting Keith a reproachful glare, “Keith's just bleeding a little, and you know how I am with blood. He just needs stitches is all. Now, let's see about organizing this stuff.”

“No, I got it. I can do this,” Lance told him, nudging his hands against the pile Allura had created for him.

“Lance...”

“Go help Pidge and Allura. Or Coran! That way you won't be around for the blood. Coran definitely needs help with all that star dust or whatever, probably.”

Hunk and Coran glanced at each other quickly before Coran burst out, “Yes! I could really use your help, Hunk, since Pidge took my job. Good thinking, Lance. Come now, Hunk, let's get out of the Princess' way and get that star dust.” He moved towards the door quickly, worried gaze still focused on Lance.

Taking a last glance at Lance's trembling hands, Hunk sighed. “Alright, if you're sure.” Gripping Lance's shoulder one last time, he turned from the medical bay.

Flinching as Allura threaded a needle through the first of the lacerations on his leg, Keith said with the most even voice he could muster, “Lance, do you have your music player with you? We could really use something to listen to right now.”

“Yeah!” Pidge shouted enthusiastically, holding a tray of silver instruments out for Allura in her bloodied fingers, “Some music would be great right now. Not any of that old shit you like to listen to though. And dear god, no musicals.”

Lance spun, glaring in her direction. “Hey, that old shit is the classics, and you can never go wrong with the classics.” He crossed his arms petulantly over his chest. “And musicals are god sent, Pidge. God. Sent. Wicked is a masterpiece.”

“I think that's an argument we can have another time,” Pidge told him, grinning when his eyes narrowed to thin slits of blue.

“Fine, but this conversation isn't over yet, Pidgeon. Mark my words.” Carefully rummaging through his pockets, he pulled out the music player.

…..

Lance was lying on Keith's bed, listening to his even breaths that hitched with pain every few moments. He slept fitfully despite the pain killers Allura had forced down his throat.

The medication had sent him into the ether, making him loopy enough to laugh generously, leaning heavily on both him and Pidge. As they'd reached his room, he'd unabashedly brushed a kiss across Pidge's cheekbone that had her storming off with a screech. He'd barely shucked off his suit when he'd dragged Lance bodily onto the bed, and curled around him as a cat would a preferred toy.

He was aching and tired, his knee throbbing in time with his pulse, but he couldn't follow Keith into sleep. Every sound in the ship rang through his ears, the creek of metal, the hiss of ventilation, the squeak of the mice running passed the door. The tang of blood was strong in his nostrils, the unpleasant stick of Keith's drying blood on his pajama bottoms making him squirm. He wanted a shower, but he wanted to stay with Keith curled around him like he was needed, wanted. He wanted to see the sleep on Keith's face, but he wanted to feel the incessant heat of his body, smell the hints through the ship soap that were so blatantly Keith that he knew he'd lose if his sight returned.

Brushing careful fingers across the fringe over Keith's forehead, he carded them through the soft locks. His smile came unbidden as Keith released a small, softly content sound that was closer to a mewl than a sigh. Taking only a moment to consider, he shimmied out of his pants and slid down in Keith's arms.

He'd only just managed to get comfortable when he heard the hesitant staccato of a fist against the door. Stilling, he listened closely as the person shuffled in front of the door, waiting for him to answer. When he didn't, they knocked again, soft and a little dainty, and he sighed inwardly.

A sigh, and he knew who stood outside. Allura paced across the hall, returning to knock a third time. When he remained silent, hoping she would just leave, she shifted and knocked gently, quieter. “Lance?” she called tentatively, “Can I come in? I need to speak with you for a moment.”

Sliding from Keith's arms and frowning as a sound of discontent slipped from his lips, he left his jeans on the floor and joined Allura in the doorway. “Keith's sleeping,” he murmured as he slid the door open, barring her entrance, “Maybe later.”

“I didn't come to talk with Keith,” she told him, mimicking the volume of his voice, “I wanted to talk to you. Pidge, Coran, and I developed something. I'd like to give you the first dose now, and... I'd like to talk, if that's alright.”

Turning his ear back to the Keith, he listened to make sure his breath had remained even before nodding. “Alright, but not in here. Let's go to my room.”

“Of course.” She followed him into his room, pausing in the middle the same way Keith had done those long days ago. She waited until he'd sat on the edge of his bed before continuing. “The star dust was the last component we needed to pull something together for your eyes. It has very precise healing properties, and with the samples Pidge took, we-”

“Princess,” Lance cut her off, sighing as he sagged into the bed, his shoulder sloping, “Not to be rude, but I'm not really interested in how you guys made it or what's really in it. I know you three aren't really doctors, and Coran is probably the only one with any medical experience. I'm basically a science experiment at this point, so I'd just kind of like to get on with it. I'd like to know as soon as possible whether I'm going to be blind for good or not.”

Allura was quiet, her breath hitching as if caught by a hook. Regret gripped him, but she spoke before he could allow it to fester. “Lance, we're not sure it's permanent. We've never really seen this before, and we can't find it in any database of past cases. There's a chance that it's only temporary, that your natural healing ability will correct it with time.”

“And then there's the chance that it's permanent,” he pointed out, running his fingers along the cylinder of his cane, focusing on the smooth seams of metal against metal, the barely noticeable dip around flush head rivets and screws. “How many times am I going to need to use whatever you guys have cooked up?”

Clearing her throat, Allura's weight dipped the bed beside him. “About three times a day. Once in the morning immediately after waking up, or after your morning routine. Once in the afternoon, sometime after lunch. Once in the evening, about an hour before you sleep. If you workout that day, and after your shower, it needs to be applied.”

“That's a lot of work, Princess...” He trailed off, unable to sustain the joking tone he'd been grasping for. Running a hand back through his hair, he glanced towards the dip of her weight. “What is it anyway? Eye drops? Pills?”

“Well, it's similar to a cream or gel. You'll have to apply it beneath your bottom eyelid. Only a small amount is needed. It'll be best if you have someone help you with it.”

“Okay... And I just, uh, let it sit there? Blink it around?”

“No, if you blink, it will naturally be secreted. Think of the way you get something in your eye and if you blink enough times it will eventually filter out. No, after application, keep your eyes closed for 10-15 minutes. That should give it enough time to spread. After that, just keep your hands away from your eyes.”

Lance nodded. “Are we going to do this now?”

“Oh, yes! Thank you for reminding me. If you could sit on the floor with your back against the bed.” He followed her instructions, sliding to the floor. She moved in behind him, bracketing in his shoulders with her legs. “Tilt your head back. Now just hold still. This will feel strange at first.” He flinched as she pinched his bottom eyelid, pulling it away from his eyes. Thick, viscous goo filled the cavity that had been left, and he shuddered involuntarily. “I'm sorry, Lance. I know it's not comfortable,” she told him as she moved to his other eye. “Just keep your eyes closed. I'll tell you when the time is up.” She sighed, brushing his bangs from his forehead.

Closing his eyes tightly, Lance surrendered himself to the gentle stroke of her fingertips over his forehead. He fidgeted, Allura's gaze like a hot iron against his skin. “You said you wanted to talk about something, Princess?” he asked, breaking the silence. He chaffed his hands against each other, breathing out a careful sigh.

“Yes...” she started but trailed off, contemplation in her voice.

“Is everything alright, Allura?”

Leaning over him, she set her hand atop his, pulling them apart and ceasing their constant movement. She pulled one up against her thigh. “I don't know,” she whispered, pressing his hand flat, running her delicate fingers across his palm, “I don't think it is. There are... broken pieces in the team right now. I... I wanted to talk about... about yesterday. About what you said in the hangar. Lance, are **you** alright? And please, do not try to deflect. I can tell when you're lying.”

Lance released a shuddering breath, forcing his hand to remain relaxed in her grasp. “I'm... I don't know. Maybe? Keith... he makes it better.” He laughed, running a hand down his face. “That's just not something I even thought I'd say. From rival to friend. My life is a regular YA novel.” Another laugh slipped between his lips. “He just makes things easier. Well, maybe not easier, just easier to bear, I guess. He... he understands. He makes me... happy. He makes me forget that I'm-” He bit at his lip sharply. The taste of blood flooded across his tongue.

Allura's fingers paused for a moment, only a breath, before resuming her careful examination of his palm. “Do you really think what you said in the hangar, Lance? Do you really believe that?” she whispered, her voice barely audible passed the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears.

“I-”

“Because you're wrong.” Her voice had grown stern, louder. He flinched, but her hand tightened around his, keeping him anchored in place. “You are so far from useless, it's laughable. You're the best shooter we have on this team. Above that, you're our heart and soul. You may not think so, but you are. When everyone is serious and strung out and stressed, you make the situation easier to bear. You remind everyone what we're fighting for. You remind us of the people that we fight for every day. You're fun and joyful and outgoing, but when you're solemn, everyone feels it. Things haven't been the same, and I know it's not easy. I'm not asking you to push through for us. I want you to keep gong because you want to, because there's something worth fighting through this difficult time for. While you're getting better, we'll be here waiting for you and supporting you. You might not believe it right now, but I hope one day you'll realize that you are what holds this team together.”

“Allura, I-”

Standing quickly, Allura stepped around him and pulled him to his feet. “You can open your eyes now. You should probably get back to Keith before he wakes up and hurts himself trying to figure out where you are.” Her voice was tight and watery, her hands trembling against his arm.

As she turned to leave, he told her, “Thank you.”

Her footsteps paused in the doorway. “You're welcome, Lance. I hope you can smile genuinely again soon. I miss it.”

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I catapulted straight into crack headcanons in this one, but I can't seem to be sorry about it. I just put a little too much of myself in this chapter though, whoops.
> 
> Also, there was a point where I had no conscious thought before crying out, "Oh no!", and beginning to cry a little. I wonder if you all can pinpoint that moment.

Keith groaned loudly drawing Lance's attention away from one of the many stress relievers Pidge always had on hand. He shoved the cube beneath his pillow, scooting into his side, pressing gentle fingers to his cheek.

“Lance?” Keith grumbled, pain clear as a sunny day in his voice.

Warmth enveloped Lance's hand, and he smiled gently. “Right here, mullet, I'm right here. How are you feeling? Groggy? Nauseous? Pukey? If you say pukey, I won't be able to help you.”

“Like I lost four pints of blood in one sitting. How do you think I feel?” He struggled to sit up, growling when Lance pressed a hand to the middle of his chest to keep him in place. He flopped back to the bed like a petulant child. “Quiznak, my leg hurts. What happened to being shoved into healing pods after life threatening injuries?”

“Coran said their malfunctioning, so for now, you have to heal the old fashioned way.” Lance ran his hand over Keith's cheek soothingly, stroking his thumb across his cheekbone. He startled, his face growing warm as he realized what he'd been doing, but Keith hadn't shoved him away, so he remained in place. “They told me to tell you that you're not allowed to move unless it's absolutely necessary. Like showering or using the bathroom, stuff like that. You're confined to bed rest until further notice.”

Keith's face dropped away from his hand, his nose skimming Lance's shoulder. “Of course I would be. How long did they say?”

“I don't know. How quickly do you heal?”

“Hell, I don't know! I've never been hurt this badly!”

“So, let's say a week to be safe. Two at most.” Lance could feel Keith's eyes boring into him, and he had to force down a laugh.

“You can't seriously be serious.”

Raising an eyebrow, he repeated, “Seriously be serious?”

“I'll go completely crazy, Lance. I'll get bed sores. My muscles will atrophy. My body will deteriorate into a puddle of goo. What good will I be to the team then!”

“And you call me a drama queen,” Lance muttered with a roll of his eyes.

Keith quipped back, “You are a drama queen.”

“Then you're my drama king. How's that for irony?”

Snorting, Keith released a string of bubbly laughter. “What irony? I don't think you're using that word right.”

“Well, I don't think you're using your face right,” Lance snapped back haughtily, sitting straight and leaning against the pillow he'd propped against the wall.

“Oh, please explain how I'm supposed to be using my face. You can't even see it!”

The quip stung far less than Lance was expecting, and so, he leaned over Keith again until his nose just barely brushed the tip of Keith's, a sly grin tugging at the corner's of his mouth. “Well, for starter's, kissing me like you mean it instead of running your mouth, or you know, using it for other things that don't involve talking.” He could have sworn he felt heat radiating off of Keith's cheeks as he spluttered.

“I-I am injured! I d-don't think those things are in m-my repertoire at the moment!”

“'Repertoire',” Lance mused, “That's a big word for you. Are you sure you know what it means?” He didn't pull away as Keith pressed a hand to his chest, letting his mouth drift closer. He could feel every exhale that slipped passed Keith's lips.

“Do you?”

“We can sure find out.”

“Lance,” Keith murmured in warning, but before he could continue, a groan slipped passed his lips. “Fuck, that hurts. _Did I break my leg?_ ”

“Way to ruin the mood, Kogane, but yes, yes you did.” His voice dropped. “And it's pretty mangled too. Here, hold on.” Sitting back, Lance ran his hands over the bed, bumping against every possible item save for the one he was looking for. The clatter of pills in a bottle drew at his attention. He lunged for the sound, catching the bottle just as it tumbled off the blankets. “Gotcha! Here. Allura said you need to take one every twelve hours for the pain. Also, they're like... antibiotic or something? I didn't really understand everything she was saying, but its supposed to keep you from getting sick.”

“They're not going to do what the others did to me, right?”

Lance handed him a single pill, capping the bottle. “Um... no? I'm not sure. Maybe? God, I hope so. You know you kissed Pidge?”

“Fuck!” Keith shouted, grabbing Lance's shoulder and pulling himself up, “Where?”

“Her cheek. Do you really think either of us would be here to flirt if you had mouth kissed her?” Lance asked flippantly, answering his own question before Keith could come up with a reasonable answer, “No. We'd have been shoved out of an airlock like five hours ago. I don't think she wants her fist kiss to be with you, my man. You should have heard the noise she made though. Utterly pure rage.”

“She's going to kill me in my sleep.”

Shrugging, Lance patted Keith's hand soothingly. “I'm pretty sure she's going to kill all of us in our sleep one day. Except for Hunk... probably.”

“Probably,” Keith mocked.

“Take your damn pill and go back to sleep, mullet.”

Swallowing the pill, Keith groaned again. “You smell terrible. You know that?”

“Well, you don't smell like a basket of rose petals yourself.”

“Shower?”

Lance considered for only a moment before nodding. “Shower,” he agreed, swinging his legs out of the bed.

…..

Showering was, decidedly, the best and worst possible course of action Lance could have allowed Keith to push him into. They had seen each other naked plenty of times before. The showers were communal, and it was nearly impossible not to have caught a glimpse of the others at least once. No, seeing each other naked was not the problem. The problem was that they had never had bare skin pressed against bare skin as Lance held Keith up beneath the warm spray.

They're helpless laughter filled the long room as they slipped and stumbled around each other, scarlet staining their faces and eyes averted as best they could manage. Soap and the plastic they'd used to protect Keith's leg did not help in the slightest, sprawling Lance on his ass halfway through their showering extravaganza right after righting Keith from his slip.

Of course, that was about the time Keith's pills kicked in, and he dissolved into a giggly, loopy version of himself.

He pulled Lance to his feet and pressed close to him, laughing into his skin, lips pressed to his pulse point, his collar bone, his shoulder, back up to his jaw. Either he was oblivious or unconcerned with the way his body simply fit against Lance's.

It was all Lance could do the keep his hands above Keith's waistline.

“Quiznak, Keith,” Lance muttered, drawing Keith back to his feet for the fifth time, fingers clutching low on his sharp hipbones, “You are not making this easy for me. I am just a simple man. I wasn't meant to sit through this trial!”

Keith giggled, actually giggled like a school girl with a newfound crush, leaning heavily into him. He was pressed chest to chest with him as he hooked his chin over Lance's shoulder. “Man. Okay. You're just a teenager like me. We're not men yet. Just teenagers in space. Do you think space sex is different than Earth sex? Do you think its possible to have sex in _zero-gravity_? I don't think it'd really work. Riding might work or- Oh! Oh! Reverse cowboy! That would be fun!” His words were slurred, his body pliant and loose. He laughed again.

Groaning inwardly, Lance threw his eyes towards the ceiling and thought of everything that was far from a turn-on. He willed the heat flooding south to ebb. “I wouldn't really know, Keith. I don't have anything to compare it to. Let's stop talking about this.”

Keith gasped comically, pushing his hands against Lance's chest. Lance wasn't sure, but he thought maybe Keith could probably see sound at that moment. “Lance, are you... a virgin?” he asked, voice full of wonder, “Was Allura's mouse your first kiss too?”

“No! Allura's mouse was not my first kiss! And what does it matter if I am?” Lance snapped more sharply than he'd meant. Like most things that revolved around his sexuality and his little to no experience, it was a sore spot, but Keith didn't seem to notice the edge to his voice.

“Woooow, that explains so much,” Keith whispered. Suddenly, his voice brightened passed the slurred note and octave from the high he'd acquired. “Am I going to be your first? Lance! Am I going to be your first?”

Lance slapped a hand over his face. The pain reminded him of where they were and why exactly Keith was acting the way he was. “Of sorts. I think it's time we get your back to your room,” he muttered, “God, I hope you don't remember this conversation later.”

“Lance,” Keith cooed plaintively, pawing incessantly at his chest, “Lance, you didn't answer my question.” Before Lance could wrap their towels around their hips, Keith pushed further back from his chest. “Oh, it's Pidge! Or Katie. No, Pidge. Katie goes by Pidge. But Katie is her name too. We call her Pidge though,” he explained to Lance fervently before calling to her, “Hi Pidge, my pain pills made me high. I don't really like the feeling, but I also like it a little. Are you going to take a shower with us? You know, you're just so cute. I wanna hug you and pinch your cheeks!”

“Yes, I can clearly see that you're high, Keith, but high or not, I won't hesitate to drop you if you touch me,” Pidge muttered from the stall beside them, a lilt of laughter softening the serrated edge of her tone, “Really, Lance, praying on an injured man who is higher than anyone has ever had the pleasure of being? That's a low even for you. If you two are going to do anything unseemly though, don't do it in here.” The unmistakable click of a camera shutter rang over the spray of the shower.

“Did you bring a **camera** in here, Pidge?” Lance spluttered, “And I am **not** praying  on-”

“It's okay, Pidge, I want Lance to do unseemly things to me. I'm really gay, and it's been a little bit, and I like Lance, and he has really nice abs. You should feel them. They're like a washboard.” Keith's fingers slid down his abs, and Lance's breath stuttered out of his chest.

Pidge's gasping breaths spoke to her stifled laughter. “Yes, Keith, that was very obvious. I've known for awhile. Your pining was utterly smothering. And, to answer your question Lance, yes, yes I did. I have to collect blackmail any chance I get. Nothing below the belt though, so don't worry.”

Keith's fingers continuously ran over Lance's abs, dropping lower with each drag.

It was driving Lance absolutely nuts.

“Okay, I think it's time to go,” Lance said urgently as warmth began to pool south of his naval. Flipping off the water, he wrapped a towel around Keith's hips with trembling fingers, ignoring how Keith's fingers never left his stomach. “Come on. Let's go, Keith! Say goodbye to the Pidgeon now.”

“But I don't want to go yet. I want to stay and shower with Pidge,” Keith whined, brushing against Lance's fingers as he reached for the edge of the towel.

Frantically wrapping his own towel around his waist, he grabbed Keith's hands. “No, no, I don't think so. I think it's time to go back to your room and change the bandages on your leg and for you to rest.” He tugged Keith from the stall, stalling his fingers from grabbing for Lance's own towel.

“Yeah, not happening, Kogane. You're not my-” Pidge's words were cut off sharply by her screech of horror. “Keith, I swear to god, if you kiss me a third time, I will make you a girl!”

Keith laughed, Lance pulling at him. “Good thing Lance is bi then! Lance, we're going the wrong way!”

Swiftly turning on a heel, Lance shoved Keith back passed Pidge's stall. Her helpless laughter followed them from the showers and into the dressing room. He had no desire to see what else the pair could get up to. High Keith was already hard enough to deal with without Sober Pidge to complicate the situation.

…..

Keith was snoring, propped up against his chest, when Pidge knocked on the door. She pushed in before he could adjust Keith, sitting on the edge of his bed. Her weight barely made a dent next to theirs. “Okay, so I made this thing,” she started immediately, voice quiet as a whisper, even as excited as she was, “It'll definitely need modifications of course, and it'll be useless when your eyesight comes back, but I thought for the time being while you're blind, we could test it out. It could be useful for places where night vision is impossible, and such. NVG is so finicky, you know, and unreliable at times. Not to mention that it'll totally blind you if the wrong light source is around. Like, take a clear light and red light for instance! You are not walking away without seeing spots if there's a clear light around. And also, your depth perception gets totally fucked.” She was babbling, a stream of messy scientific terms mixed with dumbed down jargon he didn't quite understand slipping from her lips.

He vaguely understood what she was getting at though. Vaguely. Very, very vaguely.

“You know, like Daredevil!”

“Okay,” Lance sighed, rubbing at his forehead, “I need you to slow down, Pidgeon. I barely caught any of that.” He reached out slowly, tentatively searching for her shoulder. When the fabric of her shirt slid beneath his fingers, he grasped at the appendage it covered, grinning. “Let's go outside and talk so we don't wake up Sleeping Beauty. Really, I'm surprised he's not awake already.”

“Right. He's the lightest sleeper out of all of us. Sleeping with you, I'm surprised he gets any sleep at all. Not only do you run your mouth while awake, but you barely shut up in sleep either!” she chirped brightly, standing and stepping away to allow him to swing his legs out of the bed. “Did you know I caught him napping in the common area one time and he nearly cut my throat when I went to poke him.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “Okay, sure you did. Also, thanks for the vote of confidence there.” They shuffled into the hall, Pidge barefoot and Lance only bearing long pajama bottoms that were stolen from Keith's drawers. The cuffs of the bottoms brushed the skin just above his ankle. “What did you want to show me?”

“This!” she cried triumphantly, setting something cold and metallic in his hands.

He closed his fingers around it, and he could nearly sense how she bounced in place. A grin pulled at the corners of his lips at the thought.

“I made it after we sent you off with Keith! Or, well, I've been working on it for awhile, but it was kind of on the back burner until I realized its potential implications!”

“Okay, go on.”

“So, it's kind of like echo location! Or like Blue's sonic cannon? But less damaging, and the whistle will reverberate back instead of going through like Blue's does. I mean, I got the idea from Blue, so maybe the sonic cannon can be used for echo location too! Anyway, echo location,” she explained excitedly, her words devolving into fragments, partial statements, and explanatory noises that really didn't help him understand any more than her words were, “So, like, -here put it on, around the ears- like, that liquid blocks electrical signals from your eyes to your brain, but I thought, maybe just maybe, that if it was a different kind of impulse that came from different nerves, I could induce a sort of vague image. Maybe I could reroute some of those impulses to cause imagery through sound instead of light! Like Daredevil! I don't know if it'll work. It kind of worked when I shut down the lights in my room, but I can't be sure it'll be the same with you. It'll probably feel really awkward because the ear piece has to drop so far into the ear, but maybe, it you want, we can try it out. See if it works? I don't know. I just thought it'd be good if it does work. You can get some of your independence back. The cane is still needed to cause more noise, though. More sound waves equals a clearer image, you know. Maybe. Probably? I can't really be sure. Like I said, it only kind of worked for me. And if it works for you, I can hook something similar up to Blue or Black, that way you can see the cockpit and get two way sight back, and-”

Lance reached out, fumbling until he caught hold of Pidge's shoulder again, cutting her off, “Slow. Down. Pidgeon. Before you suffocate. Let's try this out, alright! I'm looking forward to being Daredevil!” he told her brightly. “If this works, you totally have to upgrade my armor. Uh, but before that, can you put that goop stuff in my eyes? Keith was way to high to help out. He tried to kiss them better.”

Pidge laughed. “Sure. Yeah, I can do that.”

…..

“Pidge, oh my god,” Lance whispered, words slow and drawn out as he rhythmically tapped his cane out in front of him. “Pidge! This is amazing! You are an absolute genius!” He swung towards her, a fuzzy, indistinct outline of her presenting itself as she laughed delightedly.

He was having a hard time explaining to even himself what he was seeing though, or how he was seeing really. It was less like he was seeing her and more like he was hearing her entire presence. With every burst of laughter that she let loose, he saw her form as the sound rippled through her body. He was the one seeing sound instead of Keith, and he had to keep himself from laughing.

Carefully, he pressed his palm to her cheek, a grin splitting across his face. His words were pure awe as he whispered, “Pidge, I can see you. I can see you! This is... this is amazing! This is amazing...” Hot tears tracked down his cheeks, his knees failing him as he slid to the ground. Hard wracking sobs shook his shoulders, and the indistinct images smeared as his vision normally would with tears. They wobbled and distorted, curving around and around. There was too much noise, too many sounds waves coming from his person to interpret.

“Lance,” Pidge murmured worriedly, her hand smoothing across his shoulders, “It's alright, Lance. It's going to be okay.”

“I thought I'd never get to see again,” he hiccuped, salt slicking his lips and water running from his nose, “I thought... Pidge, this is so amazing. I never thought- I- This is the best thing anyone has ever down for me. I don't- I don't know how I'll ever be able to repay you.” He hiccuped violently, laughter following the shudder of his tears. “I'm a fucking mess.”

“No,” she said, her voice soft as she stroked her sleeves over his cheeks hesitantly, wiping at his tears, “No, you're just Lance, and you don't have to repay me. I know that if I ever needed anything, if I were in your position, you'd do everything in your power to help me. It's how friends work, how family works. Everyday I'm thankful for you and everyone on this ship. If it weren't for you guys, I probably would've gone completely mental by now.”

Lance grinned, leaning into her palm unconsciously. “No, you're Pidge, you would have made it without us. You're a superhero.”

“I'm not so sure sometimes,” she said, voice solemn but her smile was still present along side it, “but I don't have to wonder because you were all there for me. We'll get through this, Lance, just like we always do. If we weren't fighters, there's no way we would have defeated Zarkon. There's no way the lions would have chosen us to pilot them.”

“This is probably the first time I've ever completely understood anything you've told me.”

The door to Lance's room hissed open, and the pair stiffened as Keith padded into the hall. Padded wasn't exactly the right verb. It was more of a shuffle mixed with a limp, but he carefully lowered himself beside them, radiating heat as he pressed into Lance's side. “You weren't in the room, so I came to find you,” he murmured groggily, his words still gently slurred from the pain meds, but more conscious than they'd been in the shower.

His thumb stroked beneath Lance's eye. “You've been crying. I don't like to see you cry. It hurts. My Lance is happy and smiley and... and playful and flirty, and I will do everything in my power to keep that Lance around.” His hand cupped the cheek Pidge's fingers had fallen away from, pressing a different kind of warmth into his skin. He pressed a chaste kiss to Lance's mouth despite its wetness.

“Keith, are you still high?” Pidge asked, all wry humor as he pulled away.

“A little, yeah.”

“Figured. PDA is far from your style.” Lance watched through the hazy image Pidge's device produced as she stood, and he wondered how he'd never noticed just how small she was. “I'm going to bed. Keep that for now, Lance. I'll make modifications to it later.”

“Okay, and Pidge?” Lance said before she could turn away.

She paused. “Yeah?”

He pulled her down into a tight hug. “Thanks. For everything.”

She returned the hug, trembling just slightly. “You're family, Lance. I'd do anything for you.”

Then she was gone, and he was helping Keith back to his feet. “Let's go back to bed, Sleeping Beauty.”

…..

“Keith, you need to take your meds,” Lance told him sternly, holding the small pill out towards Keith.

“No, I don't,” Keith muttered stubbornly, turning away from Lance despite the throbbing of his leg. He wanted nothing more than to slip into comfortable oblivion, but he didn't want to go to breakfast with Pidge's eyes on him and her pointed, barely veiled jokes at his expense. Granted, he'd be high and wouldn't care, but he'd remember, mostly. Just like he sort of remembered the shower, and kissing Lance's eyelids and making a complete idiot of himself. He remembered enough to make him groan in horror. He'd rather not wake up to something he wouldn't be able to live through next time. “I'm fine. My leg doesn't hurt at all.”

“That is a bold lie!” Lance lunged forward, pushing Keith back into the bed and grabbing his jaw in a way that was both firm and gentle at the same time. “I know you're in pain. Just take it! It protects you from infections and viruses and other junk like that too! You need it!”

“No, I don't!” Struggling against Lance's full body weight, he forced down the groan that rose in his throat as he nudged at his leg. Black spots bloomed in his vision. Nausea twisted his stomach. “Fuck,” he hissed beneath his breath.

“See? You **are** in pain! Just take it!”

“No!”

“Take it!”

“I don't want to!”

“Why? Seriously, I don't understand. I'd love to get high for a little while and not have to worry about anything.” Squeezing his eyes closed, Keith shoved Lance's hand away again, but this time it went easily. His body weight disappeared, and the bed dipped as he sat back. Concern colored his voice as he whispered, “What's wrong?”

“I don't... I don't like waking up and only barely remembering what happened over the passed hours, what I've said and done. I don't like not being in control. Like the shower. I remember up until halfway through it, then everything is fuzzy. I remember some things and don't remember others. There's holes in my memory. I'm sure I said something that should be important, maybe, or that you said. I don't like that feeling, okay? I don't like forgetting.”

“Okay, okay,” Lance murmured, his hands returning, empty and soft as they pressed to Keith's face, “I'll talk to Allura about something less psychedelic, alright?” He grinned, leaning in closer. “It's probably best you forgot what happened in the shower. You said some pretty embarrassing things. Also, Pidge was there. She heard everything. She also saw you trying to jump my bones.”

Keith spluttered, shoving his hands against Lance's face. “You're lying! I didn't try to screw you in the shower!”

“You so did! And if I didn't have the moral compass of a mother of six, I would have let you, but as it is, I don't have sex with people under the influence.”

“You don't have sex at all, Lance,” Keith quipped back.

It was Lance's turn to splutter. “I thought you said you didn't remember what you said last night!”

“I don't, but I specifically remember something about being your first time and you being a virgin of sorts, and feeling...” His wry grin fell away, sliding over Lance's face. “What did you mean by that? It doesn't... it doesn't sound good.”

“It isn't.”

Keith stared at him silently, willing him to divulge his hurt, but silently hoping it wouldn't hurt him more. When only silence stretched between them, he murmured, “You don't have to tell me. I won't ask again.”

“No, no, it's not... I'm just trying to put it into words.” He flopped onto his back, staring up at the ever familiar ceiling. “It wasn't... It's not easy for me to talk about.”

“Not easy to talk about? You? There's nothing you can't talk about.”

“There are... There are some things...” Lance told him, his voice quiet, just a whisper of breath. “This is one of them.”

Keith bit his lip, turning on his side with a grimace to press into his side. “I didn't mean to-”

“It's fine, just... let me get my thoughts in order here...”

Keith was quiet, allowing Lance to gather himself. He watched the crease between his eyebrows deepen second by second, his clouded blue eyes narrowing slowly. Carefully, he reached forward, running his finger down the crease until it was smoothed out.

Releasing a slow sigh, Lance closed his eyes. “When I was living in Cuba, I was actually pretty successful in my dating. I had girlfriends, boyfriends, best friends, but no matter how many people I dated, I always returned to this one guy. He was charismatic and lively, charming and caring. His smile could tame seas. His laugh could stop a crowd. He was everything I wanted to be. Handsome, hot, so stupidly attractive that it physically hurt to look at him. I felt blessed that he let me come back over and over again, like a puppy returning to its home.” Nostalgia and longing dug deep furrows into his face, darkening the circles that perpetually marred the skin beneath his eyes. “He convinced me to do a lot of things, things I would never do, even now. We were friends, boyfriends, confidants, but I could never take the next step. That's something I have never really been able to do with someone, never really cared to, to be honest.”

Interest pricked at Keith, and he couldn't stop himself as he asked, “Really? Never?” He thought back to the flushes of desire he'd vigorously gotten throughout the early years of his puberty, how they had consumed him with white hot heat. He tried to imagine never having felt them, but that seemed to surpass the ability of his imagination.

“Really. It was the company that I enjoyed, not the body, but that wasn't where his interests lied. He took his time, tried to get me to come to the decision on my own, but patience was never one of his virtues. It was a few weeks before I was supposed to ship off to the Garrison when he made his move. He was angry when he found me. I was sitting on a stretch of beach most people don't want to take the time to get to. Or don't have the shoes to get to. It was secluded, somewhere I went to think and get away from it all.” Lance breathed for a moment, his eyes closed to the world around him. The nostalgia and longing were gone from his face, replaced by something close to pain. Possibly it was betrayal.

“He came onto me more than any other time before. We'd flirted, teased, but never gone passed kissing and groping. I tried to fight him off, but... but I was never able to hurt someone important to me, and I was smaller than I am now, a lot weaker too. It was easy for him to overpower me. After he was done, he didn't leave. He had me pinned, right where he'd wanted me for a long time. He hurt me. Cut me. Maybe it was a knife. Maybe it was a box cutter. Maybe it was just a razor. I don't really remember. I just remember each line he made, the blood, the words on my skin-” His breath caught in his throat, his fingers digging into his hip. A tear slipped from the corner of his eye.

Reaching out again, Keith wiped away the tear. “I'm sorry,” he whispered, knowing that it was inadequate in every way, but having no other way to convey what he felt that wasn't angry words, “That should never have happened, not to anyone. Not to you especially.”

“It happened a long time ago. It doesn't... hurt as much anymore. The wound just aches and itches sometimes when I forget to remember that it's still healing,” he murmured, sighing and turning to face Keith. A soft smile spread slowly across his lips as he allowed his eyes to drift open once more. “You're beautiful, you know that?”

Heat flushed across his face, but he didn't look away like he body screamed at him to do. “So are you.”

“No, I'm not. Not like you.”

“You're right. You're nothing like me.” Lance's face began to drop, but he continued. “You're like the sun, Lance, like every star in the sky, like a fucking nebula. I don't think you understand just how amazing you are. I don't deserve you.”

Scrunching his nose, Lance leaned towards him, eyes narrowed. “You've got that backwards. There's no way **I** deserve **you**. When I look at you, you make me think of the ocean. Strong and unyielding, dangerous and hiding things far beyond imagination. Terrifying and wonderful, just like you. When I look at you, it feels like I'm home.” His voice had dropped, becoming nothing more than a reverential whisper. His voice was all warmth and tenderness.

“I could do a million amazing things in my lifetime, and never deserve you,” Keith told him, mimicking Lance's tone, “When I look at you, I feel like I _have_ a home.” The smile that burst across Lance's face; Keith would fight entire armies, entire **worlds** , for that smile.

With heat pressing in at the back of his eyes, clawing at his throat, Keith pushed forward to press chapped lips to smooth. The kiss, so unlike most of the ones they had shared already, was chaste and sweet, full of affection and an emotion they were to scared to name, but ever willing to diver deeper into.

“I would do anything for you,” Lance told him, eyes still closed, lips only a breath away from Keith's.

“You already do too much for me.”

Wrapping an around around Keith's waist, he scooted forward until they were as close as they could get while still nose to nose. The smile was still in place, his sightless eyes catching his without fail, but his lips trembled just slightly. “I want you to know that if you want to, I'll do anything with you.” His arms tightened, and his breath shook as it slipped passed his lips.

Frowning, eyebrow pushing up towards his hairline, Keith said, “I'm not following. We already do a lot together. We've fought crazy, psychotic aliens together. It's kind of hard not to do everything together.”

Lance rolled his eyes spectacularly, long lush eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. “That is not what I meant, Keith, you dope. Other things. Couple things. Anything.”

“Like dates? Because I thought that was just going to come along when we get to stop on planets.”

Lance groaned comically, rolling his head back against the pillow. “No, that's not what I meant. I mean, yes, I was really hoping to get to actually date you, but not what I meant. Don't make me spell it out for you, samurai.”

“You're going to have to.”

Taking a deep breath, Lance breathed out, “Things that couples do when they want their relationship to progress and are comfortable enough for it to move on in a physical direction. **Lover things**.”

Keith's mouth went bone dry. “Oh.” He was an idiot.

“That didn't sound like a good response,” Lance said slowly.

“No! Quiznak, wait, hold on, I'm just- I was just surprised. I've never really done the relationship thing before, but... uh, yeah. Yes, I-I do want that with you... Eventually... When I'm not broken...”

“You didn't seem to mind being broken in the shower.”

“Okay!” Keith shouted, shoving back from Lance with a hand to his face, “This conversation is over! I'm going back to bed!”

“Wait, you need to take your meds!”

“I told you, I'm not going to!”

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next couple chapters were written pre-seasons 4 and 5 so any similarities to those seasons are purely coincidental. I've just been being a lazy piece of garbage and not editing them. Thar does include the entrance of Matt and other impatiently awaited for characters. To be honest, you don't want to know what I imagined certain characters to look like before the newest season, so I did change her a bit, but I didn't change her personality to match. 
> 
> Sorry for being gone so long. I hope you enjoy the chapter if you've stuck around to find out how this mess continues.

Keith was still sleeping, snoring softly, when Lance woke. He blinked slowly into the darkness that had become common if not comforting to him. While Allura had changed Keith's medication, he had traded mild silliness for a penchant to sleep well over twelve hours a day. He was healing slowly, slower than Allura and Coran had been hoping for, but not unexpectedly. She had explained to Lance that the beast saliva had an inhibitor in it, to slow prey and give it a higher chance of capture. The beast's saliva had slowed the healing process significantly, but not so much that once Coran finally got the healing pods back in working order it wouldn't heal.

They just had to wait patiently... Lance was not a particularly patient person though, and Keith was even less.

It had already been a week. Coran was still making repairs with Pidge's assistance, fine tuning and weeding out any bugs in the hardware. They still weren't sure why they had malfunctioned in the first place. They assured him though that, “Whatever it is, we'll find it.” It had been a long week, and one Lance wasn't keen on repeating without Keith's company once the pods were back online.

Still, he trudged along, taking care of Keith to the best of his abilities. With Pidge's new gear, he could travel the castle relatively well without needing assistance, which he normally only needed when something was too far away for Keith to stubbornly hobble to as he ignored Lance's protests.

Lance closed his eyes, willing his body to slip back into the cradling warmth of sleep, but after ten minutes, he sighed and sat up. Keith's arm slid from his chest, coaxing a irritable grumble from the other Paladin. He shifted closer to Lance's warmth.

Sliding from the bed, he turned and tucked Keith's ridiculous mound of blankets around him.

Lance had found after the first couple days of sharing a bed with Keith and subsequently Keith stealing his blankets, that Keith liked to be cozy. He liked the heavy weight of blanket after blanket bearing down on him, the smothering heat that reminded him of the desert and blocked out the frigid air conditioning that the Castle seemed to manage best during the sleeping cycle. It was only when Lance slept on his chest that he got fed up with the decidedly cramped bed and kicked all of the blankets to the floor.

Slipping on Pidge's invention and grabbing his cane, Lance slipped from the room, tapping quietly at the floor around him. The Castle was always humming, always making noise in some way or form so that the cane was virtually unnecessary, but he felt more secure with it resting heavily in his palm.

He passed the kitchen, roamed the training deck, made a circle around the observation deck, before he found another sleepless soul. There always seemed to be one these days. Standing outside the Bridge, he listened intently to Allura muttering beneath her breath and her vague yet nimble fingers flying through thin air.

Silently, he stepped into the room behind her. “Allura,” Lance murmured, stepping to the side so she'd catch sight of him.

Still, her silhouette jumped as she spun to face him. “Oh, Lance! What are you doing up so late? You should be sleeping before tomorrow's training.” Sending away the screens he'd surmised had been pulled up, she laced her fingers together and fidgeted. “H-how's Keith?” she started, “His leg is healing nicely, but I wish he would eat more. He eats so little. I worry.”

Lance allowed the silence to settle between them, staring towards her with his lips pressed into a thin line. Sighing, he turned his eyes towards the front of the room. He paced forward before turning back. “The new pills make him nauseous. He can only handle so much of the food goo at one time before puking it back up, so he just keeps it to a minimum. We haven't stopped recently to replenish our supplies, so Hunk can't make some alien version of chicken noodle soup or really anything to calm his stomach. It's taxing, but we're making do.”

“Ah, yes,” Allura said, guilt clear in her voice, “I suppose that is... my fault. I will... find a planet for us to visit and replenish later. Right now, though, you should go back to bed.”

“Allura,” Lance said, cutting into her flow of words, “We all miss him. You don't have to hide that you're looking for him from us. We want to find him too. It's not healthy for you to stay up to all hours of the morning searching for him. He'd want you to look after yourself first. We'll find him without you having to kill yourself.”

Allura was quiet for a moment, turning back and flicking her fingers to bring the screens back into view. Her movements were slower, contemplative as she dragged her fingers across them. “I know, but... it's impossible for me not to search. I can't sleep most nights worrying myself sick. I worry about Shiro, Keith, the entire team... I need to feel like I'm doing something, trying to make some progress, to find him.” Her hands dropped back to her sides. “I don't want to lose more of the little family I have. You Paladins have made losing Altea bearable for both Coran and myself. You are all part of our family.”

Smiling, Lance reached to wrap gentle fingers around hers. Her hand felt small and fragile within his, almost like a child's. “And you're part of our family too, Allura. So please, take care of yourself. We can see the strain. We worry too.”

“I will try my best to take better care of myself so as not to worry you all.”

His smile remained. “If you need to talk, one of us is always awake and none of us will be mad if you wake us up anyway.”

“Thank you, Lance,” she murmured, squeezing his hand.

“Anytime, Princess. Now, I'm gonna head back to bed before Keith wakes up and rips the ship apart looking for me. You should do the same. Remember, we have training in the morning.”

There was a smile in her voice as she said, “I will.”

…..

Keith was back on his feet the next week, limping, but upright all the same. He snapped at Lance often, teeth clenched and face tight with pain, when he'd try to help him. Later, in the room that had quickly become 'theirs' instead of 'Lance's', he would murmur an apology with downcast eyes and red painting his cheeks.

“Keith, babe, sweet, love, it's fine. I understand,” Lance would whisper, pulling him close and dragging a blanket over their bodies.

Keith hobbled into the kitchen thinking of Lance's soft whispers against his skin, squinting through the pain radiating up his leg. For a moment, he stared at Hunk as he pulled a batch of cookies from the oven. “Do you know where Lance is?” He sunk heavily into a seat, jaw clenched and eyes closed against the sound of Pidge incessantly tapping at her keyboard.

The tapping paused, and he cracked his eyes open to look at her.

Eyebrows pulled together, Pidge shut her laptop and set it on the counter. “Keith, are you alright? You look like shit.”

“Thanks,” he grumbled.

“No, Keith. You honestly look like hell,” Hunk interrupted, setting the cookies on the counter, “Are you alright?”

“I'm just tired and ready for the healing pods to be back online. Has Lance been through here?”

“No, he's in the hangar bay.” Hunk slid another tray into the oven before turning back to raise an eyebrow at Keith. “He's having a heart to heart with Blue or something. Keith, really though, we're not trying to pry, we're just worried. Are you alright? Have you been sleeping?”

He had and he hadn't at the same time. Sleeping for twelve hours doesn't mean much if it's not restful, and he hadn't slept well since he'd switched meds. He slid from his seat. “I'm fine, just didn't sleep well. Save some of those for Lance, will you? He'll be disappointed if Coran eats all of them again.”

“Keith,” Pidge started, sliding from her seat after him, but the door was already sliding closed behind him.

…..

“Okay, Black,” Lance called up to the lion, cane balanced across his lap as the others purred around him. The deep hum resonated in his chest, easing the constant anxiety roiling through his body. “So, you chose me as your new paladin. I don't know why. I don't know why you figured this would be a great idea, but... but I'm here. I want to understand. I need you to help me understand.

Black crouched down, but did not extend the ramp to the cockpit. The lion stared at him, silent and watchful.

Lance stared back just as silently, cautiously opening his mind to Black's prodding. Black slid flashes of thought into his mind, memories, Black's memories. There was Allura's father. Zarkon. Others that Lance didn't recognize, but assumed were the old Paladins. Keith. Shiro. Pidge. Allura. Coran. Hunk. Lance himself. He saw how Black felt towards each of them, the traits the lion had observed through Shiro's eyes and how they had each grown through their time as Voltron. Finally, Black showed him why Allura had been rejected and Lance had been chosen instead.

  
“Oh,” Lance whispered reverently. Standing shakily, he pressed a hand to Black's nose. “Thank you. I understand.”

Purring, the rumble the quietest but deepest out of all of the lions, Black sat back, staring towards the others.

There was little time for Lance to process the information Black had bestowed on him as the sound of the second set on hangar bay doors opening and closing reached him. He spun towards the sound, bayard in hand and fingers deathly tight around his cane. Outside the doors, the airlock engaged and the first set hissed open.

A pair of indistinct forms clambered from a small pod. Their stature was the only thing he could properly make out, and primarily because they were so vastly different. Standing tall and proud, one towered over the other, all willowy limbs and pointed ears. Well, ears or hair. Both? He wasn't sure. However, he was positive that they were Galra.

At the Galra's side, far shorter but bulkier in mass, what bore the vague outline of a human crossed their arms across their chest.

Blinking quickly, Lance narrowed his eyes and growled, “Who the hell are you? Why are you here? How did you get into the castle?”

Ignoring his questions, the Galra growled back in a voice that was unmistakably feminine, “Where is the Red Paladin? We know he is on this ship.”

Lance stiffened. “What do you want with him?”

“Where is he?” The Galra's voice dropped low, deepening from a tenor to something closer to a base. They took a step towards him.

Lance swung his bayard up without a second's thought, sighting on their murky form and adjusting to the sound of their voice. “Stop right there. You're not going anywhere near him, not if I can help it. Either tell me what you want, or leave. You'll have to kill me first if you want to get to him.”

The Galra took another deliberate step forward. “My pleasure.”

“Woah, okay, slow down there, honey.” The smaller of the two stepped between Lance and the Galra, hands raised, placating. His voice was deep and male with a Southern twang that had Lance flashing back to watching Westerns with his sister.

Lance swayed with the sudden onslaught of memories. It took him the space of a heartbeat to find his footing again.

“We're just here to talk to him. That's all.”

“I'm here for a fight if he does not allow us to see him,” the Galra replied sharply, advancing another step, but only bumping into the human's back. They reached out to steady the human as they stumbled forward. “He can not keep us from our son.”

“Son?” Lance spluttered, wavering on his feet again. His knee throbbed in time with his pulse, but he only ground his feet harder into the metal beneath him.

He startled, a sharp inhale of breath spiking pain through his lungs, as warmth pressed in against his back. Familiar warmth. Warmth that he had been sleeping next to for weeks. Warmth that simultaneously settled Lance and used him as an anchor, pressing into his side.

Keith gripped his shoulder with strong fingers. They were both hurting, but Keith was still hurting far worse than he was letting on. His only tells were in the touches he bestowed on others, on Lance.

He stepped up to Lance's side, leaning heavily on his shoulder to keep pressure off his leg. “Lance, what's going on? We received an alert that the bay doors had been opened with Shiro's personal code.”

“Okay, where are the others?”

“Authenticating the code. They've already locked down this portion of the castle, but the castle didn't register anything entering the bay. They're trying to figure out what happened.”

“So they sent you down here to check it out?” Lance shouted, snapping his head around to glare at Keith, “What were they thinking? Are you fucking kidding me? _Co_ _ñ_ _o_!” He dissolved into a slew of Spanish, forgetting for a moment that there were two intruders in the castle in the face of his teammates' stupidity and the possible threat to Keith's safety.

“Lance.” Keith's voice was sharp, more of a warning than simply his name. “They don't know I'm here. Yet. So, tell me what's going on before they figure it out. I don't see Shiro anywhere.”

Lance turned his eyes back to the pair, beginning to say, “These two-”

“Keith?” the human interrupted, stepping towards them. “Keith, is that really you?”

“Dad?”

Lance glanced over at him sharply, registering the slightest tremble in his voice.

“Keith, my son,” the Galra cooed, stepping around the human as they took several quick steps forward.

Hand vice-like around Keith's wrist, Lance dragged him back. “Stay where you are! Not another step!”

“Mom?” Keith's voice was tiny, quiet, something Lance had never heard before. Quickly, he turned to Lance, forcing his bayard back to his side as he pressed close. His breath fanned across Lance's mouth. “Lance, it's okay. I... I think. These are my parents... These are my parents?” His voice turned bewildered before growing angry. “These are my parents.” Slowly, he turned back towards them, his body tense and hand reaching around to grasp the knife in the small of his back. Growing rage slid off of him in waves.

The four stood in silence for several long moments before his anger finally exploded outward. “What the fuck?” he spat.

The pair startled back, their voices as bewildered as their body language, “Keith?”

“Don't 'Keith?' me! What the **fuck**?”

“What's wrong, my son? Are you not happy to see us?” the Galra asked, standing still for the first time since Lance had confronted them.

Keith was trembling. His anger was overwhelming, all encompassing, and still somewhere deep within, Lance could hear how he was rejoicing. “Yes, I am, and I'm also not. Actually, I'm pissed! I've been waiting for you two! For years, I've wondered where you were, if you were dead, and if you weren't, why you _abandoned_ me! Why are you here? Why are you here **now**? You've been gone nearly my entire life, and you finally show back up? For what? To make nice with me? Because you feel bad for abandoning me?”

“Keith,” Lance whispered, grabbing his shoulder and holding him in place as he seemed to vibrate. “Let's just call Allura and the others. We shouldn't be handling them on our own.”

“Handling!” the Galra scoffed, but the other man, Keith's father, mirrored Lance and placed a steadying hand on her shoulder. It was a feet worthy of note for the simple fact that she was over a head taller than him.

He stepped in front of her, turning his back to them. “Honey, let's just let them take a moment. This is probably a big shock, and they have no reason to trust us. Give them a moment to group together.”

She hissed her disdain, but allowed herself to be led back to the pod they'd arrived in.

“Let's get the others.” Looping an arm around Keith's waist, he bodily dragged him towards the bay doors, keeping his eyes on the pair. The Galra turned back suddenly, and Lance dropped his arm to bring his blaster back to his shoulder.

She hissed a laugh at him, but remained where she was. “We brought some others you might have been missing. Maybe then you'll trust us?”

“Not a chance,” Lance replied immediately.

Keith pushed the blaster back to his side again. Before he could add on to Lance's sentiment, another murky shape clambered from the pod, pausing to help one more out.

Keith's resounding shout could have woken worlds dead for centuries. “Shiro!”

“Shiro?” Lance asked incredulously, squinting at the shape as if that would make it come into focus. Of course, that wasn't how Pidge's invention worked.

“Keith?” Shiro's voice was as unmistakable as Keith's or Hunk's or Pidge's, and it assaulted Lance's ears, nearly knocking him to his knees. “And Lance! It's good to see you two. Where are the others? Especially Pidge. There's someone here she's been searching for.”

Lance stared at the second form, frowning at their stature and posture and their barely audible landing as they jumped down beside Shiro. Everything about them was surreal and familiar, even without the added advantage of knowing what their face looked like. “Is that... Matt? Pidge's brother? Where have you been? She's been looking everywhere for you!”

Matt laughed self deprecatingly. “It's, uh, it's kind of a long story.”

“Yeah, no kidding!” Lance laughed just a little hysterically.

“I'm going to call the others.” Keith shot a glare back over his shoulder as he turned. He pressed a gentle kiss to Lance's lips before disappearing.

The gasp that followed his departure had Lance jerking his head back towards them.

“So, you and Keith finally figured it out?” Shiro asked wryly, inching towards Lance. Matt followed behind him, their shapes nearly forming into one with how close they were standing. “It's good to see. He's happy? Healthy? You're being good to him, right? He doesn't need to be hurt again.” He clapped a hand on his shoulder, squeezing far too tightly than the situation called for. It was not a friendly pat on the shoulder. His voice dropped menacingly. “If you hurt him, Lance, trust me, it'll be the last thing you do.”

“Okay, Space Dad, you don't need to scare the boy. I think he's got it,” Matt laughed, “Don't mind him, he's just overprotective. He wouldn't hurt a fly. Well, that's not quite true, but I only think he would beat you into the ground during training. You don't need to be fearful for your life from him...” He trailed off, and Lance swore he could hear the smile growing in his voice. “From me though, I will flush you out of an airlock with a cracked helmet.” His tone was cordial as his free hand clapped onto Lance's shoulder.

Lance slipped quickly away from them, retreating to what felt like a safe distance. “Shit, if I knew I was going to get the 'Dad Talk', I would have gone to get the others myself. I'm not going to hurt Keith. Do you even know-”

“Do you love him?” Matt asked bluntly.

Heat erupted over the back of Lance's neck, cupping his ears. “I-”

Cries of wonder and amazement filled the hangar bay. “Shiro!” Shiro's form was engulfed in a mass of silhouettes.

“Matt!” A small body slammed into Matt's side, throwing him into the mass. “Where have you been? Are you alright? What have you been doing? Do you know where Dad is? Is he alright? Is he healthy? Is he hurt? We need to go get him. Right now. Right now! We have to go right now! I'm going to go get suited up, and then we're leaving. Just give me a couple minutes-”

Matt's voice was solemn to the point of tears as he said, “No, Pidge. We... Dad didn't make it. It's just us now.”

“N-No. That- That can't be true! Dad has to be alive! We have to bring him back to Mom. He can't be gone! He can't-” A sob burst from her, interrupting her words.

Lance's throat constricted with the crack of her voice, the harshness of her sobs.

Watching as one of the forms detached itself from the blob they had all become, Lance didn't wait for her to walk away from them and pulled her against him. He hugged her tightly to him, her shoulders trembling with each sob. “It's okay, Pidge. It's alright. I'm here. We're here for you,” he murmured softly.

“Allura, take them to the common area. Shiro, you can start explaining everything, and you should probably grab _those two_ before you leave. Just... just get them away from me,” Keith told the group, voice strong and purposeful as he grabbed Lance's shoulder.

“Keith, we just want to-” Keith's mother began, startling the entirety of the group out of Pidge's pain.

“I don't want to hear it right now. Whatever excuses you have, you can make them later. Right now, everyone needs to get out.”

“Follow us.” There was worry evident in Shiro's voice, but it didn't grow any closer.

When the remainder of the team and their new arrivals had left the hangar, the doors slipping closed behind them, Keith stood in front of Lance and spread his arms wide. Pidge slipped away from him, her form molding into Keith's. After a moment, they pulled apart, become two separate silhouettes again.

“Let's go, Lance. We can get a debrief from Shiro and Allura later.”

“Right...” Lance trailed off, following him as Pidge slipped her hand into his.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha, this chapter has been waiting to be edited for... months. If there's one good this that's come for everything going on right now, it's the need to finish out my last two (non-hiatus) stories before mid next month.
> 
> Anyway, this story was already coming to a close as is. Hope you like the new chapter, and I'll see you soon.

"How is she?" Matt asked, swirling a cup of Arusian mead. Distaste was written across his face even though his eyes had the glazed glint of someone already well into their cups.

"Sleeping," Keith sighed, taking a seat across the island from him, "Lance has got her now."  
  
"I hate seeing her cry. I hate doing that to her. It breaks my heart. I wish I could have had other news for her, but she's not a child anymore. She would have known I was lying, or figured it out quickly enough. She's so intelligent. She's a fucking genius. I forget she's just a fifteen year old girl sometimes, not like Shiro and me. We're older, experienced. We lost classmates during training, and some really close friends during missions. We knew it was dangerous, what we were doing, but at fifteen, you're invincible, and everyone around you is invincible too. No one ever dies, and if they do, no one close to you ever dies." A shuddering breath whispered from between his lips, and he pressed his face into his hands. "She's just a kid. She shouldn't have to worry about dying or anyone close to her dying." His shoulders shook as he sobbed, the cup of mead forgotten in front of him.  
  
"We're all kids," Keith whispered just loud enough to be heard over his sobs, "Even Allura and Shiro. Neither are that much older than us, but that's how it goes, isn't it? The young are always chosen to bear the burden of not coming home at the end of the day, or someone else not being able to. It's always up to us, isn't it?" He gnawed at his bottom lip absently, chewing on the words sitting on the tip of his tongue. "This shouldn't have been a war we had to fight. None of us. You, Shiro, Pidge, Lance, Allura, Hunk. None of us. But it is our war now, and we're going to make it through it. Hell or high water. Pidge is strong, now she just needs you to be strong with her."  
  
Matt swallowed down another sob, nodding as he lifted his head. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. I just... I need a minute before I go see her. She'll know I was crying."  
  
"She'll know whether you go now or later, Matt. She knows you." Shiro scooted in beside Matt, pressing their sides together, wrapping a tight arm around his shoulders. "She gets it though. Trust me. She's grown a lot in your absence."  
  
"And more in yours," Coran sighed. They hadn't heard the doors open, and both Lance and Coran stood at the end of the island.

Lance reached out blindly for Keith, his eyes swollen and red.  
  
Matt sat up straight, wiping stray tears from his cheeks and his mouth dropping into a tight line. "You must be Coran. I've heard a lot about you from the others. They told me you were around when Voltron was being constructed?"

"I was only a little tyke, but yes, I was."

"Would you be willing to answer a few questions for me?"

"Of course!"

Matt stood, smiling. "Can we walk and talk?" he asked, stepping away towards the door.

Nodding, Coran followed him, but Allura stopped them as she stepped through the doors, Keith's parents close behind her. "Hold on, Coran. We've got some things that need to be discussed." She gestured towards the island with the others stationed around it. "Please, have a seat. Where is Pidge?"

"Sleeping," Lance spoke up before the others could, his voice hard edged and his chest pressed along Keith's back, "Don't disturb her. Leave her alone."

Nodding, Allura stepped up to the end of the island. Her eyes traveled over her team clumped together on one side and Keith's parents on the other, Coran and Matt standing at the end across from her. Inhaling deeply, her eyes closed, she sighed. "For those of you who don't know already, these are Keith's parents, Travis and Krolia."

Hunk gasped loudly, eyes hopping between them.

"Yes, that is an apt reaction. They've come with information and to... recruit Keith for the Blade of Marmora."

Lance slammed into the edge of the island, gripping the edge with white-knuckled hands. "Absolutely not!" he spat. His eyes were accurate with Pidge's invention, focused accusingly on Allura.

"Lance-"

"No! Just no! You can't have him! You can't just come here and have your pick of us! I won't let you! He's the Red Paladin! You can't just replace him!" Lance was spitting venom, his voice harsh and unyeilding as he glared at the pair across from him.

Krolia's laugh was high and unwelcoming. "He is not one of you. My blood runs through his veins. He is part of the Blade of Marmora. What would he do with a lot of humans as yourself? He doesn't belong here."

"You forgot that his dad is human," Lance snarled, "He's part human too, and he was part of this team before he even awakened his blade. You were the ones who left him. You were the ones who abandoned him. We've been there for him every step of the way, so I want you to take a fucking step back, ma'am. He's not going with you."

"And you forgot that you can replace him, just like you replaced the Black Paladin. He is my son. His is part of the Blade of Marmora by virtue of his birth. If you want our information, he will come with us."

Lance flinched, stepping back, but Keith had raised his arm to catch him, pulling him in against his body. "That... that was different. That was necessity. We didn't know if he'd ever come back."

Krolia raised her head, staring down her nose at him. "It will be the same for the Red Paladin as you have the Black back."

Lance bristled in Keith's arms again, pushing forward against his firm grip. "You can't just-"

"Lance!" Allura's voice was sharp and final, her eyes thin and glaring as she stared him down. "You will stand down. This is not your decision to make. This is Keith's decision alone. Keith..." She paused, her eyes glancing over him. "This is your decision to make."

All eyes turned to him, but he stood carefully, clutching his crutch. "No."

"Keith-" Krolia started sternly.

"No," Keith said sharply, cutting her off, "This is my team. They've been my family for nearly a year now. I'm not going to abandon them just because you think you know what's best for me. You two were the ones who left me. You were the ones who didn't bring me to the Blade. I'm not going with you, not while Voltron is needed. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to leave." Turning, he pulled Lance along behind him, ignoring the others as they called for him.

.....

"Did you mean that?" Lance whispered, sitting on the edge of Keith's bed. Pidge's invention dangled between his knees from the tips of his fingers, his shoulders slumped forward. "You're really not going to go with them?"

Sighing, Keith sat beside Lance, rubbing his hands down his face. "Yes. I'm not going to leave the team just to go on an adventure with the people who abandoned me. You... mean more to me than they or the Blade ever will."

"Keith," Lance whispered, reaching for him with searching fingers.

Keith grabbed his hand gently, slotting their fingers together and pulling him in close. "Lance," he murmured in return, pressing his face into the crook of Lance's neck, searching for purchase and finding home there in his scent and skin instead. He pressed a gentle kiss to his pulse point.

"Don't go anywhere. Don't leave. I don't know what I'd do if you left."

"I'm not going anywhere," Keith told him, but somehow, it tasted of a lie on his tongue.

.....

"Keith, son, can we talk for a moment?"

Keith stopped in his limp towards the med bay, glancing over his shoulder at his father sans his mother. Staring at Travis for a long moment, Keith turned, continuing as if there hadn't been an interruption.

"Keith, please, we need to talk. Its best that I talk to you than your mother. You know how she can be."

He couldn't stop himself. He glanced sharply at his father. "Do I? It's kind of hard to know someone you don't remember ever meeting."

Biting at his lip, Travis was silent for a long moment. "We're sorry about that, Keith. That's not what we intended to do, but at the time, it was safer for you to be an orphan than it was for you to be half Galra, half human. It's still not safe for you. I'm not sure it ever will be. You have to understand, we were looking out for your well being."

"Looking after my well being would have been not abandoning me without any information whatsoever. Not even a fucking notebook. At least the Winchesters had that, not including all of the information they were given," Keith snapped back, marching with renewed determination.

"Who are the Winchesters?"

Keith released an explosive sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "No one. Just some characters in a show Lance forced me to watch."

"Lance... You're very... fond of him..." There was something impish in his voice.

Keith didn't look at him as he snapped, "Yes, and? Don't tell me you're homophobic as well as everything else."

"No, of course not. It's just that... It's surprising, I guess. Don't let your mother find out."

"I'm pretty sure she already knows. I kissed him in front of her. He was hanging all over me in front of her."

Travis chuckled, rubbing wryly at the back of his head. "Oh, you'd be surprised what she misses. She's pretty oblivious when it comes to stuff like that. You have no idea what I had to do to get her attention."

Staring off at nothing in particular, Keith muttered, "You'd be surprised how much I understand that statement."

"Well, from what I've heard it was really the other way around."

"Heard from who?"

"Shiro."

"I'm going to shove him out of an airlock," Keith muttered darkly, already cataloging every airlock he could ever remember seeing in the castle, “Traitor.”

Travis laughed generously. "Don't do that."

Keith sighed, pushing a hand through his hair. "You didn't come here to talk about Lance and me. What did you really want to talk about?"

"Well, it was kind of about the two of you. I really do need you not to let your mother find out about the two of you."

"Again, I kissed him in front of her."

"Again, she thought kissing was a weird human ritual that had nothing to do with intimacy when she first saw a couple making out. She honestly asked me why they were battling with their mouths. Keith, it took me an entire year for her to let me kiss her. She still doesn't really understand why I want to. Anyway, not the point. Don't let her know. She is ruthless, and she is determined to bring you with us when we leave this place. You're her son, whether you'd like to admit it or not. You're my son. She honestly believes you belong with us fighting on the side of the Blade rather than fighting with the Alteans." Travis grabbed Keith's shoulder gently, pulling him to a stop. "Keith, if you love these people, you will not let her know that. I love you mother, but she doesn't really realize how much we depend on those we love. Don't let her know your weaknesses."

Keith stared at him, horror building in his body. "Are you saying that she's going to use the others against me? My mother is going to force me into a decision? She's going to force me to come with you guys to save my family?"

Travis was silent for a long moment. "Yes."

Jerking away from him, Keith marched into the med bay, locking the doors behind him.

…..

Krolia was on the training decks, her hair plastered to her face and her shirt drenched with sweat. She barely glanced at him as she continued, her movements fluid and a type of graceful that Keith only hoped he would be one day.

“Mom,” he started, the conviction in his voice falling away immediately as she paused to look at him fully.

“Yes, Keith?”

He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to do what needed to be done. How could his mother, of all people, even consider using the people he loved against him? What parent would do that? If Travis knew her as well as he claimed, then she would. She would do it happily, and that baffled him.

He was going to do it though. He was going to say those damning few words that were going to tear him from Voltron like Shiro had been. He was going to sacrifice himself to save the team, even if it was from the same people who should have been his family his whole life.

Swallowing, Keith lifted his head. “I'll go with you...”

Krolia nodded, but raised an eyebrow. God, he looked so much like her that it hurt. “But?”

“We leave tonight, and you don't come near my team.”

“That's all you want?” she asked, “Nothing more?”

“Yes.”

She nodded again. “Then we leave tonight.”

.....

Keith was sitting on the edge of his mattress, his elbows propped on his knees, his hands clasped and forehead pressed to his knuckles. His leg bounced incessantly, agitation raging through his body to the point that he couldn't stop his movements no matter how hard he tried. He wanted to scream. He wanted to sob. He wanted Lance to be there so he could wrap him in his arms and forget the rest of the universe existed.

As if hearing the call of his longing, Lance pushed into the room, laughter falling from his lips. "Go away, Matt. You and Pidge, there's literally no mistaking you two for anything but siblings. Go away, I'm going to bed!"

The door slid closed as Matt called his goodbye, and Lance stood in the silence of the room. His eyes landing on Keith after a short moment. Frowning, he sat on the edge of the bed and scooted towards him until their sides pressed against each other.

An explosive sigh escaped Keith, and his shoulders slumped. He leaned heavily into Lance, dropping his head against his shoulder.

Lance's arm wrapped around his waist, his hand fitting snugly against his hipbone. "Are you alright? Is it... is it still everything with your parents?"

Keith nodded, allowing himself to soak in everything Lance had to offer, every ounce of encouragement and bit of acceptance. Then, he turned on Lance, pushing him into the bed. "I don't want to talk about them."

"Oh?" Lance squeaked, staring at a point just passed Keith's right ear as red stained his ears and traveled into his cheeks. "What do you want to talk about then?" His hands fell loose and open against the covers, and Keith slid his hands from where they gripped his wrists to slot their fingers together.

"I don't want to talk about anything. I just want to... be with you. I just want you and nothing else." The truth slid from his lips easily, but pulled a tremor from his body as if it had cost him something to admit as much. Admit that he wanted Lance in every sense of the word. If he truly thought on it, he would find that it had been because it was the closest he'd come to telling Lance he loved him. He hadn't said the words, but they warmed his words anyway.

Lance trembled beneath him, eyes finally on his. "Are you sure?" he whispered, self-doubt in his words as it always was.

"More sure than I've ever been about anything." Keith leaned over Lance, pressing a kiss to the smile that exploded across his face.

Guilt roiled through his body, but he couldn't stop himself.

They went slowly, Keith guiding them through a dance he hadn't participated in since leaving the Garrison. Lance was eager yet shy. When he got too excited, started moving too quickly, Keith calmed him with gentle kisses and soft caresses. Keith taught him what it meant to go slow, and Lance, for all his inexperience, taught Keith the true meaning of ' _making love_ '. Neither of them had ' _made love_ ' in their entire combined years of life, which was to be expected, but it made a circular sort of sense that they would learn and experience it for the first time together.

Lance moaned, bowing his back.

Keith sighed into his skin, pressing a kiss to the sweat slicked skin of the back of his neck.

Lance pressed butterfly kisses across Keith's face, mapping out every structure and valley in his mind with his lips alone.

Keith giggled in a way he never had, butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

Lance ignored the aching misery that the absence of his sight created, for the missing hole that Keith's pleasured image would have taken in his mind. This was just another thing the loss of his sight had taken from him.

Keith pretended that his leg and heart didn't throb, that he wasn't in pain with each rock of their hips and press of Lance's lips.

They were sweet and gentle in the way they treated each other, fingers caressing, mouths eager, but not biting as they often were.

Keith kissed Lance as if he were saying goodbye. Lance kissed Keith as if he'd only just seen the light. Neither wanted to acknowledge what they felt in the others lips. It was only for one night. What was wrong with embracing ignorance for just one night?

.....

Keith slipped away when Lance finally fell asleep. His breathing was even, his legs tangled in the sheets and his arms tangled around Keith's waist.

He dressed silently and haltingly, procrastinating with each piece of clothing, each article he shoved into his small bag. His eyes lingered on Lance longer and longer between each item. Finally, he pushed two of Lance's shirts into his bag along with one blue slipper and one red, leaving the other halves by the bed. He wished he could take more of Lance with him, but instead, he took two of the few pictures of them together from where Lance had taped all of his pictures to the wall. One was Lance with his cheek pressed against Keith's who had been more than a little startled by the surprise selfie. The other was of the team all standing tall beside one another on the bridge.

Carefully, he folded them in half and slid them into the inside pocket if his jacket.

He bit his lip, glancing back at Lance. Ever so gently, he leaned over Lance, pressing a kiss to each of his eyelids and one last kiss to his lips. Then, he turned and quietly went to meet Krolia and Travis.

.....

Lance woke to an empty bed. The bedding was cold at his side, and the room felt emptier than before, as if there was less of Keith's presence. He didn't have to be told that Keith had left. He felt the absence, knew that he'd gone.

Biting his bottom lip, Lance stared at the ceiling, the tears overflowing before he was aware of their presence.

…..

It was several days before Lance finally found the strength to pull himself from his bed. He left Pidge's sight device on his bed. He held the closed cane tightly in one fist, and instead, walked swiftly towards the kitchen. His legs were steady despite how his hands shook. If his legs were anything, they were steady with determination.

It was early morning, he knew that much. He knew that it was early enough that even Shiro wouldn't be awake.

There was always that chance that either Matt or Pidge were awake. Their schedules were always a little wonkier than everyone else, but when he paused outside the bridge, he didn't hear a single sound. Not even the mice were making their runs around the castle after their nightly snack raid.

So, Lance stepped onto the Bridge.

…..

Waking up on a ship for the first time was almost as disorienting as the first time he'd woken up at the Garrison or every time he switched homes. No, no that wasn't right. Those were far less disorienting. No, this was as disorienting as waking up to the police banging on his door to tell him they'd lost contact with his father's space craft and that he'd be coming with them. Waking up in the Blade's headquarters was as disorienting as the first time he'd woken up with Lance in his bed.

“Lance?” Keith mumbled, reaching out across the small mattress for the warmth of his body. He found only cold sheets, and shuddered. Drawing his arm back to his chest, he breathed out a trembling sigh. “Right.”

Pain lanced up his leg and body to settle into his system as he swung his legs off the edge of the bed. With a groan, he grabbed for his bag beside his bed, rummaging through the depths for the pills Allura had given him. There weren't many, but she had refilled the little bottles just after Shiro's and Matt's return. If he could ration them, they would probably last him another two weeks.

Cursing his body for needing help, he swallowed the pills dry, and laid back against the bed.

Someone knocked at the door, and he pushed himself up again. Before he could answer, his father walked in, a black and purple cloth draped over his arm. “Morning, son. I've brought you your new uniform.”

“Uniform?”

Travis was wearing a skin tight jumpsuit, purple and black, the neck high around his throat. “Yes. The Blade of Marmora uniform. You're mother has waited for you to put this on for years. She had it made when you were just a little boy so that when you finally grew old enough to fight, you could.” A small smile twisted up the corners of his mouth, but he made no further motions into the room, instead waiting just inside the door.

Staring at him for a long moment, Keith finally run a hand down his face. “Come in, Dad.”

…..

“Lance?”

Lance only slanted his eyes towards the newcomer, his fingers flying over the screens where he sat. No, he couldn't see Shiro nor could he see the screens, but it was habit, and as he'd come to find out, habits were harder to break than he thought.

“What are you doing? Why are you awake?”

Sitting back away from the screens, the continuous sound finally faded. Pidge had rigged his station a few weeks before with a touch-talk system, and he'd figured out a way to transfer it to Shiro's old station. “I'm the leader now. It's time I started acting like one,” he told Shiro, and even to his own ears, the words sounded false. He wasn't doing this because he was the leader. He was doing this to stay busy, but that didn't mean they couldn't be accomplished at the same time. “We've been stagnant too long. It's time we get back out there and start showing the rest of the universe that Voltron is still on their side, still ready to fight off the Galra. Haggar and Zarkon may not show themselves for a long time, but there are planets still under Galran rule.”

Shiro's heavy footsteps approached. His heat radiated over Lance's left shoulder. “This is... surprisingly succinct.”

“Yes, well, as much as people like to think, I actually do remember my training and I do know how to use it so people understand what I'm trying to say.” His words were bitter and sharper than he'd meant, but he didn't retract them.

“No one thinks that, Lance.”

Lance just turned a raised eyebrow to him in response before sitting forward again. “Training starts an hour after I get the others up. We decide on what areas need our help the most right now by lunch. We form a plan by dinner. We execute by the date we set.”

“Lance...” Shiro trailed off before finding the words he was looking for. “We don't have a Red Paladin, and you're new with Black. Keith just left. Even Allura is new with Blue. You guys need time to train, and we need time for Keith to come back or for us to find his stand-in.”

“That's why I said 'by the date we set', and not tomorrow. We'll get by without Keith, just like we got by without you,” Lance snapped, spinning to face Shiro's voice, mouth set in an uncharacteristic scowl, “While you were off gallivanting with Keith's parents and getting kidnapped, we were here forging on like we were supposed to. Keith's not coming back. He left. We'll find a way to keep moving forward.” Heat pressed in at the back of Lance's eyes, and he turned away quickly.

“Oh Lance-”

“Don't 'oh Lance' me, Shiro! I'm not a child anymore! You were gone, we figured it out! Keith is gone, I'll figure it out! Leave me alone! I don't need you, I don't need Keith, I don't need anyone! I'll be fine just dealing with it myself!”

A sigh escaped behind him, and a hand slid onto his shoulder. Lance jerked out of his grip, and he sighed again. “Look, Lance, something tells me Keith didn't leave because he wanted to. He'll be back in time.”

Lance growled, “Don't fucking do that. False hope is almost as damning as a broken promise.” Standing, he stomped towards the door. He flicked out his cane as he heard his steps echo back more quickly. “If you don't have anything else to say, I've got things to do.” Before Shiro could reply though, he stepped out of the door.

He waited until he was around the next corner before he stopped. His back hit the wall, and he slid to the floor, dragging his knees to his chest. He would figure it out. He could make it on his own. Keith made his choice, and Lance would continue on with the hand of cards he'd been dealt. He'd forge ahead, just like he always did. He'd make it. He'd make it. He'd-

The tears came silently, his shoulders shuddering as he cried.

…..

Keith hated this. Well, really, he hated being stared at like an oddity as he limped along behind his father and Kolivan. They were in deep conversation, absolutely ignoring him every step of the way. You would imagine that would make it easier to sneak away, they're attention so focused on each other, but you'd be wrong. One step out of place, one inch further behind them than was permitted, and Kolivan and Travis would turn in unison, pausing until he corrected his feet or caught back up.

He was tired of it. He was tired of reconnaissance because he still couldn't move fast enough. He was tired of his leg constantly hurting because he'd run out of medication.

Hobbling along behind them, Keith's head swam. He blinked rapidly through the mist, but it only grew thicker. Pausing, he pressed a hand to his head. Cold sweat coated his skin. His head throbbed in time with a pulse more rapid than he was normally aware off. His entire body ached, his leg the center. It radiated heat, pressing it close against his skin beneath his suit.

A wave of dizziness crashed over him, and he swayed.

“Keith?” Travis' voice was muffled, swimming through the mist covering his mind. “Keith, are you alright?”

Keith opened his mouth to reply, but he jerked forward, dropping to his knees and spilled what little dwelt in his stomach on the floor.

Travis jumped back, his movement almost in slow motion to his eyes. “Keith!”

Kolivan dropped down to a knee beside him, pressing a hand to his back. “Keith, what is wrong?”

“I don't know,” Keith gasped, chest heaving as spit and bile slipped from his mouth. Black swirled in at the edges of his vision. He swayed forward towards the ground, but Kolivan grabbed his shoulder, holding him still. Normally after puking, Keith's body felt purged, clean almost. This time he only felt worse, as if the acid only continued to crawl up his throat. “I think I'm going to pass out.” The blackness swirled closer the moment the words slipped from his mouth.

Travis dropped down in front of him, hands fluttering around him uselessly. “Don't do that, Keith. Try to stay awake. Try to hang on. I'll- I'll go find someone to-”

“What's happened to my son?” Krolia. This mother.

Keith thanked every star in the universe that it was then that his body decided to send him into unconsciousness.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter is short, but the next will be longer. It will also be the last unless I decide to do an epilogue. Hope you enjoy it!

It had been weeks since Keith had left with his parents, weeks of Lance sleeping alone. Weeks of Lance not sleeping at all.

He had started making rookie mistakes, mistakes he hasn't made since he first got to the Garrison, trigger happy and hot to prove himself. He had started making mistakes he hasn't made since they all first started piloting the lions together. He hadn't made a mistake that effected the outcome of the mission, but that wouldn't be true for long.

His lack of sleep was affecting his decisions, his agility, his health, his connections with not only Black, but the rest of the lions as well. His lack of sleep was affecting everything. Unfortunately, but not surprisingly, he was shaping up to be a pretty poor leader.

Not that he wasn't trying. God, he wished he could go to sleep. Just for an hour. Just for ten minutes. Just for a few minimal seconds. He was tired, and he really had tried everything. He'd taken melatonin, drank tea, worked out, not worked out, mentally exhausted himself. Nothing had worked so far.

He fell asleep here and there. He had to, Pidge explained. If his body didn't force him to sleep, he would eventually die. Simple survival instinct, she told him.

There were more times than not now that he'd be working on something whether on the Bridge or in Hunk's room, and he'd suddenly wake hours later with no memory of when he'd fallen asleep. Always, **always** , there would be a blanket draped over him. Even when he did literally pass out, it was never for more than three or four hours, and then he'd be up for 48-72 hours again. He was living off of naps.

Lance was exhausted.

He was so exhausted that he couldn't even muster up his usual anger or longing for Keith.

He just wanted to sleep.

Allowing his eyes to slowly drift close, lids heavy as lead, he breathed slowly.

The alarm system blared, ringing sickeningly through his body. ' _Lance! Get to the med bay right now! Hurry up!_ ' Allura screamed.

Moments passed where he all he could do was listen, but not comprehend. He couldn't move. The exhaustion had finally found its home in every one of his limbs instead of wandering aimlessly through his body. He was ready to give himself over to sleep.

' _Lance_!'

There was desperation in Allura's voice now, and Lance jerked, remembering his position. He had responsibilities. Even if he didn't, the tone of Allura's voice would have normally made him bolt into action anyway. As he rolled from bed, he finally listened to what she was screaming.

' _Keith, lie still! Hunk, Shiro,_ _ **someone**_ _, hold him down! Lance, we need you in the med bay as quickly as possible! Keith! Someone, turn him on his side_!'

“Keith?” Lance scrambled, sweeping his hands across his bed and then the floor for his cane. No where. He couldn't find it. Overhead, the intercom was still live.

' _He's having a seizure! Someone turn him on his side! Hunk, stop trembling and help!_ ' Pidge was yelling, her voice high with stress and terror. ' _Goddamn it, Hunk! Help me!_ '

There was a roar of rage. ' _What are you doing to my son? If you are hurting him, I will-_ '

' _Shut up! Someone get her_ _ **the fuck**_ _out of here!_ ' Pidge screamed over Krolia.

Stumbling to his feet without his cane or Pidge's echolocation glasses, he ran from the room. He was as blind as the day he'd woken from his coma, but he felt at home in the darkness for the first time.

' _Pidge, Matt, Coran, Hunk, keep him still. I need to cut away the cloth. I need to- Oh god-_ ' Several gasps filled the hall around him followed by the unmistakable sound of Hunk puking. Someone - _Keith, it was Keith_ \- moaned in pain.

Lance sprinted, careening down the hallway. He slammed into walls as he skidded around corners.

' _Lance. Lance. Where's- I- I need to tell him- Where's Lance?_ ' Keith's voice was weak, but the clearest thing Lance had heard since he had left. Slowly, his voice grew with panic. ' _Lance? Lance! Don't let them- No! No! Not my leg!_ '

' _H-hold him still. Hold him still! We can't save the leg!_ '

Sick horror filled Lance. He never knew he could move so fast.

There was no doors to stop Lance when he finally reached the med bay, hurtling through the open doors. “Lance!” Shiro shouted, catching him around the waist and bringing him to a stop, “You're here. Finally.”

“Where's Keith?” he panted, twisting and turning as he tried to free himself from Shiro's grasp.

“Right in front of you. Matt and Hunk are there-”

Lance slammed into their backs, shouldering between their bodies until the edge of the bed was pressing into his abdomen. He found a hand clutching the railing, and gripped at the owner's fingers. “Keith.” Lance's voice was only a whisper of breath, and tears burned at the back of his throat.

“Lance,” Keith moaned, a sob overlaying the agony in his voice, “They're trying to take my leg. Don't let them. Please, don't let them take my leg.”

Allura was ignoring them, her voice trembling, but authoritative as she said, “Pidge, I need you to bring me the anesthetic. We don't have time to put him under. He's already lost too much blood-”

“What blood?” Matt squeaked, his voice high and reedy as Pidge's in that moment, “It's all pus! How did this even happen?”

“Shut up, Matt! Now's not the time!” Allura and Pidge shouted together.

Lance was silent as he listened. There was grunts as the others struggled beneath Keith's writhing body. There was the telltale scrambling of trembling bodies attempting to be efficient. There was moans as Keith struggled.

He could smell the sharp tang of blood made only more sickening by a musky scent that he'd only ever smelt a few times. The smell of rot, of infected flesh. He didn't need sight to know that Allura was right. There was no saving Keith's leg, no antibiotic that would cure what had already eaten his flesh. Not even Star Dust would work, but they could still save Keith. They **would** save him. “He's gone septic, hasn't he?” he asked quietly as Keith's hands found him, feverish and sweat slicked as they traced the curve of his face.

“Yes,” Pidge snapped, closer to his ear than he'd expected, “Don't try anything, Lance. We don't have time for it. If the infection spreads any further-” She didn't have to say anything more. If the infection spread, they would loose Keith.

He wasn't going to let that happen. Not like this. Not willingly.

“How did this happen?” he asked, voice trembling as he took Keith's face in his hands. He traced his thumbs over his cheekbones.

Allura was the one to answer, her voice accompanied by the ring of metal against metal. “He ran out of pills. That accompanied with not giving himself enough time to heal properly and ripping open the wounds every time he trained, there was no chance. And he's too quiznaking proud to ask for help. The healing pods were finally back up. We could have-” There was a sob on her exhale. “I don't know how no one noticed. How-”

“Allura, we need to start now,” Pidge told her sternly, “Keep it together alright. Just for a little while longer.”

Keith sighed beneath Lance's touch. His breath was hot and moist and smelled like death.

“Keith, there's nothing they can do for your leg. It has to go. If they take it, it'll save you. You may not agree, but I can't let you die. I won't let you die. I will drag you from the brink of death over and over again. I need you, more than you'll ever know. You're going to hate me for this, but if you live, it won't matter. I just... You need to stay alive. Can you do that for me? Please, Keith, please, I can't lose you.” Tears slipped down his cheeks, and he wiped the splatters from Keith's cheek with each swipe of his thumb.

“Stay with me,” Keith whispered, fingers wrapping around his, “Promise you won't leave me.”

“Never. I will never leave you,” Lance told him, pressing a kiss to his forehead before standing straight. He turned his eyes towards the metallic clinking where he knew Allura and Pidge stood waiting. “Okay. Do what you need to do.”

Keith's nails bit into Lance's skin as the first of many screams tore up his throat.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter!! This was fun to write. I just hope that it was as fun to read. Thanks to everyone who stuck with me till the end even though it took me almost a year to update at one point.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this last chapter.

Lance was lying pressed against the side of a healing pod when he heard the ' _shush_ ' of the pod door dissolving. Startling awake, he rocketed to his feet just in time to catch Keith as he toppled forward, unstable on his remaining leg. They eased to the ground, Keith leaning his full weight against him.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered, shifting so that he was sitting in Lance's lap, his leg thrown over Lance's thigh.

“For what?” Lance whispered, running his hand up and down Keith's back, his face pressed into the side of his neck. He hummed contentedly.

“For being stupid. For being prideful. For letting my leg get that bad. For...” Keith swallowed harshly, voice trembling as he continued. “For leaving. Allura was right, about how my leg got that bad. Leaving was the worst thing I could have done.”

Lance had thought he'd be angry because he never got an answer. Because Keith left in the middle of the night right after they'd had sex for the first time. Because Keith left. All he could think about though was that Keith was here, alive and in his arms. He was still going to ask though because he couldn't help himself. “Then why did you?”

He inhaled a shaky breath. “Dad told me that if I didn't come willingly, Mom was going to use you guys to make me agree. He said she would because you're all important to me. I couldn't let that happen.”

“What a bitch,” Lance growled, smoothing his hand rhythmically across Keith's thigh. Then jokingly, he said, “You own me my other slipper.”

Keith didn't seem to hear him. “You were all I could think about after I left, and I- I forgot that I was still healing. I got careless. I was never going to see you again. I was going to die, and I would have never gotten to apologize. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Lance. I'm so fucking sorry.” The trembling in his voice had spread throughout his body. “And now I'm missing a fucking leg.”

Lance shushed him gently, hugging him close. “It's okay, Keith. It's okay. I still love you. This won't change that. We'll get through this. We always do.”

Keith shuddered. “Y-you love me?”

Lance thought about backtracking, but instead, he took the moment for what it was. “Yes.”

“How?”

Helpless laughter spilled from him. “How could I not?”

Keith pulled back. “What do you mean?”

Sighing, Lance's hands stilled, and he tightened his arms around Keith. “It's literally impossible for me not to, Keith. Everything about you just draws me in. Your eyes, your smile, your stupid hair. Even if I can't see them anymore, I still remember every detail of you. What you look like was only the first thing that caught my eye back at the Garrison. I fell in love with the selfless, impulsive, smart, brave, caring idiot that I got to know the whole time we've been out here. I just... You're everything I always wanted and so much more. I never thought that we could end up where we are now.”

“You're the one that's impossible not to love,” Kieth muttered.

Heat spread across Lance's face. He grinned. “I guess it's my turn to ask. How?”

“You're so loud all the time. You draw the attention of the room, even when you're just smiling. I can't help, but stare. You were always there with a plan or to explain something I didn't get or just to be there even when we were fighting. I just... I don't know what I'd do without you. You're the sun. Also, you're the entirety of my impulse control.”

Lance laughed again. “That's because the impulse to kiss me overrides everything else.”

Keith muttered, “Way to ruin the moment, sharpshooter.”

“Yeah, but I made you smile.”

The sound of Keith's stomach growling cut them off before either of them could say anything more. They stilled, and then laughter bubbled up between them.

Throwing his head back, Lance laughed wildly. “Alright, alright, I hear you loud and clear. After two weeks in a healing pod, I can imagine your starving.” He dropped his head against Keith's shoulder with a sigh. “Have I told you how much I missed you?”

“No. I was in there for two weeks?”

“Yeah, it's been a **long** two weeks.”

The doors slid open, and they pulled apart. “Keith!” Hunk cried, his heavy footsteps moving faster until Keith was snatched from Lance's arms.

“Yeah, two weeks that he's been next to that pod as often as we'd let him. He literally slept there every night,” Pidge griped, pressing a hand to Lance's shoulder as he finally forced his arms down, “It was sad, Keith. He was better than before, but still, watching him pine at your healing pod just made me more depressed than I already am.”

Lance snorted. “You're not depressed.”

“You don't know that.”

Keith gasped, “Hunk, please put me down. You're crushing my lungs. I can't breath.”

Lance stood, reaching for Keith and wrapping his hands around his waist. He guided him to he ground, keeping him upright as he stumbled without the help of his other leg.

“My leg is really gone,” Keith whispered despairingly.

Pressing a gentle kiss to his temple, Lance whispered, “It's okay. Everything will be fine. We'll figure it out.”

“I... I rigged a temporary prosthetic based off of early Earth prosthetic limbs while I manufacture a better one. It's going to take me a lot longer than Lance's cane because it's more intricate. The prosthetic won't be great, but you'll be able to walk if... if you want to try it out,” Pidge said haltingly, uncertainty clouding over her usual confidence.

“Maybe later,” Keith said, leaning heavily into Lance's chest, “I'd just like to eat and shower right now.”

“Okay...”

Sighing, Keith put a Pidge sized space between his and Lance's body. “Come here,” he said, his words more of a suggestion than an order. Needing no more invitation, Pidge plowed between them.

Lance smiled, resting his hand on her shoulder.

“I missed you too, Pidge. And you, Hunk. I missed you guys.” Keith's voice dropped, growing thick. “You've gotten taller, Pidgeon.”

She shifted between them. Her voice came out choked as she whispered, “I had to eventually. Nothing stays the same, and you were gone for weeks. I just happened to hit a growth spurt in that time.”

“Well, I'm not going anywhere for the rest of them.

Beneath Lance's hand, Pidge's shoulders began to shake silently.

…..

Keith was lying on Lance's chest in their bed. Lance sighed happily. That was such a sweet thought. ' **Their bed** '. Not ' _Keith's bed_ ' or ' _Lance's bed_ ', but ' **their bed** '. It had only taken a few moments of debate for them -and everyone else included- to decided to give up Lance's room since the space had pretty much been vacant for months. Not that it was being used much now either.

Matt was rarely in his new room, choosing more nights than not to crash with Shiro or Pidge. He said he slept with Shiro to get away from the trauma of sleeping in the room next to them, but they knew better. Shiro and Matt weren't just sleeping together, but **sleeping together**. It felt rather hypocritical, but Shiro's room was also more isolated than everyone else.

Lance couldn't really blame them for never coming around. A satisfied smile pulled at the corners of his mouth as he danced a hand up and down Keith's back. “Have I ever told you how absolutely fucking amazing you are? Because it's true.”

Keith was merely liquid beneath Lance's ministrations. “No, but I appreciate the sentiment.” Silence fell between them, filling the room comfortable. After several long moments where he wasn't sure he hadn't dozed off, he said, “We should probably go shower. Training starts soon.”

“We already completed training for the morning, but if you're willing to go again...” Lance trailed off suggestively, and Keith laughed breathlessly.

“Oh god, no. I can't go again. I'm going to implode if we do. I will dry out and become a husk of a man. And anyway, as our fearless leader, it is an unwritten rule that you're required to be at training. To set an example.”

Groaning, Lance wrapped his arms around Keith's waist and rolled until he was pressing Keith into the mattress. “No, I don't want to train,” he whined petulantly, trailing kisses down Keith's neck, “I just want to stay here with you.”

Keith forced Lance away with a hand on his shoulder, laughing. “No, Lance, later. I have to try out a new prosthetic with Pidge after training. Come on, get off. We need to get ready.”

Lance grumbled and rolled back over. He sat up with a huff. “Fine, but only for your benefit.”

“You have to meet with Pidge too,” Keith reminded him, sitting on the edge of the bed and dragging the simple prosthetic she'd made for him closer. He froze, his fingers wrapped tightly around the straps that kept the contraption attached to his body.

Carefully, Lance wrapped his own hands over Keith's, guiding them to his leg. “It's alright, honey. You've done this tons of times. It's the same process. One step at a time,” he cooed.

“What a pair of broken idiots we are.” Keith allowed Lance to fasten the straps, all too familiar with the process of securing and removing them.

“But we're each others broken idiots. Isn't that right? You're missing a leg, and I'm missing some sight. We're a match made in heaven.”

“Or hell,” Keith said, leaning into Lance as he laughed.

“Right, sure, but like I said, the important thing here is that we're each others idiots and we love each other.”

Nodding, Keith pulled Lance's face towards him, staring into his clouded blue eyes. He pressed a long, lingering kiss to his mouth. “The most important,” he agreed.

 


	11. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I was going to do this after I finished the other fic, but I had already started this and figured why the hell not. Here you go, some sweet Klance family stuff.

“Lance!” Keith was yelling. Not yelling because something was about to happen. He was yelling because Lance was several yards behind him, hoisting Liliana higher onto his hip while he adjusted Marco in his papoose strapped to his chest.

Keith was similarly bogged down, Jessica sitting on his shoulders clutching his head with Artes and Andelean, their adopted Altean twins, walking close at his sides in case his leg malfunctioned. His leg, like Shiro's arm, hadn't malfunctioned in nearly five years. Pidge had finally got the technology under control that year.

That was how old Jessica was though she was small for her age. She took after Pidge in that respect, but threw more towards Keith in looks.

It was still weird sometimes thinking that Keith and Pidge had made a baby together. Really, they had all been sitting around the dinner table, and she'd none too subtly asked for a donation to her cause. She wasn't interested in having a relationship to create a baby, but she wanted to be a mother. That had been surprise enough let alone the fact that Keith had actually agreed. Well, with a little pushing from Lance.

“Hurry up, or we're going to be late for the presentation.”

Right, the presentation. Pidge, Matt, Shiro and Allura's presentation from the Coalition to the United Terrian Association. They were presenting their argument for the Association to join the Coalition now that the war with Haggar and Lotor had been finished for years. Literal years. It had almost been a decade, and the Association still refused to recognize the Coalition.

“We still need to drop off the kids and get to Black!” Keith called again, but there was a lilt of fondness to his voice.

“You can yell at me when you're blind carrying two kids and a diaper bag!” Lance shouted back, but he was smiling despite himself. “We'll be fine. We're going to make it. Black is close to where Shay and Hunk are.”

“I have a fake leg! I'm a gimp, and I'm still moving faster than you!”

“I'm blind!”

“Dad, Papa, stop arguing,” Artes and Andelean said in unison.

Lance smirked. “Yeah, **Dad**.”

Though Lance couldn't see when the pair looked at him in unison, he still shuddered under the feel of their twin stares. Yes, they were his kids and he loved them, but they were damn creepy when they wanted to be. “We were talking to you too, Papa.”

“Yeah, **Papa** ,” Keith shot over his shoulder.

“Dad,” the pair groaned, and Lance and Keith laughed.

Jessica was the first to see their destination, yelling, “Uncle Hunk and Aunt Shay!”

“Let me down, Papa! Let me down!” Liliana squirmed in Lance's arms, searching for a way down.

“Okay, okay,” Lance conceded, carefully lowering her to the ground with a hand on Marco's back to hold him still. “Be careful.”

“Can I take Marco too? Please, please, please!”

Lance pursed his lips for a long moment before saying, “Oooookay, but he stays in his papoose, and you keep two hands on him at all times. Got it?”

“Got it!” she shouted excitedly.

Carefully, Lance released the clips of Marco's papoose with a hand holding him still. Just as slowly, he fastened Marco to Liliana's front, tightening the straps around her small waist and even smaller shoulders. “All set.”

Liliana was gone from beneath his hands in the next moment.

“Why don't you three go with them. Say hi to Shay and Hunk while your Dads make our slow way over?” Keith suggested.

“Okay,” the twins agreed, and then it was just Lance and Keith threading their fingers together.

They meandered towards Hunk and Shay, content in each others presence.

“It's kind of crazy,” Lance said, smiling as he leaned into Keith's side.

“What is?”

“Everything. It's been almost nine years since the end of the war. The Coalition is a thing. The Association is finally willing to accept negotiations. Us.”

“Us?”

“Yeah. We're married with five beautiful children. We're happy. We're whole. The team is still together even all these years later. When we were teenagers, sometimes if felt like we were never get to see a day this peaceful.”

Keith hummed in agreement, tilting his head to rest against Lance's. “Do you ever miss it? Your eyesight?”

Lance's didn't even have to consider of the question. “Of course I do. I'll always miss it, but... it's not unbearable like it used to be. What about you? Do you ever miss your leg?”

“Not really. Pidge's prosthetic is superb, but it's weird. Sometimes I still forget that my leg isn't actually mine. The phantom itches suck though.”

Lance nodded. “I think I kind of get that, even if eyesight isn't the same thing as a limb.” He paused, considering whether he wanted to ask the next question or not. He did anyway. They were long passed holding back with each other. “Are you ever going to stop being mad at your parents? Not that they deserve it.”

“No. They should just be happy that I haven't kept them from their grandchildren. They'll never be my parents like they should be. Like they should've been. I'm never going to let them, not after everything. But at least our kids won't miss out on having grandparents.” They were silent for a long moment, the others voices growing louder with each step. “This life is more than I ever expected to have, and that's thanks to you. You make me happy, did you know that?”

Grinning, Lance said, “I had an inkling.”

Hesitantly, Keith asked, “And you're happy too with how things turned out? You don't regret anything? Not even how we got together? You wouldn't change anything if you could?”

Lance was blind. They had known that he'd never get his eyesight back for a decade. It had been trying. It was still trying. He would never get to know what his children's beautiful faces looked like, but that didn't mean everything else was lost. He knew every nuance to their voices and heartbeats, knew the texture of their hair and skin, knew each of their unique scents. Even if he couldn't see them, he knew them almost as completely as he knew Keith.

He was blind, but it was less of a burden now and more of a way of life.

He shook his head, pulling them to a stop and turning Keith's face towards him. “No, I wouldn't. If I hadn't gone blind, I don't think we would have acted on our feelings for a long time. We wouldn't have bumped into two Altean children wandering around some hostile planet on the outskirts of the universe. We couldn't have Marco and Liliana even though I am just that good.” Keith shook his head, and they laughed. “We wouldn't have Jessica. We wouldn't have the wonderful family we do today.” He kissed Keith gently. “No, I wouldn't change anything. I'm happy just the way we are. Two broken idiots living life to the fullest.”

Keith laughed, pressing close to kiss Lance deeply. They only broke apart when they heard Hunk and Shay and all of their children calling for them, but they couldn't help kissing one more time before hurrying off towards them.

 


End file.
